Desires and Deceptions
by OughtaKnowBetter
Summary: Mutant X, a computer mutant, and a sixteen year old psionic who doesn't seem to have any powers. Set in season two. Conclusion now up. Any good? Answer all the questions?
1. Chapter 1

"Where were you?" Adam Kane was not best pleased, looking up as Jesse Kilmartin ambled into Adam's inner lab in Sanctuary. More colorful liquids bubbled in beakers in the background on the work table, and on the computer screen pasted up onto the wall a set of cells broke into duplicate sets, courtesy of mitosis. Adam set the test tube in his hand down in its rack to glare at Jesse. "I expected you back two hours ago. Did you get Denise off to the Underground?"

"Uh, yeah," Jesse stammered, taken aback at his mentor's overt annoyance. "Pretty much." _Remembering how the sixteen year old had clung to him, begging not to be sent away, even to safety. Thinking of the passionate kiss she had tried to seduce him with, if only to stay at Sanctuary where she had felt safe. Cringing at the anger and despair she'd displayed when he said no. Witnessing the humiliation of a sixteen year old who'd just been turned down by an 'older' man. Yeah, I'd say that Denise is now gone._

"Good. Where's the results of the computer program I needed you to run?"

Jesse frowned. "Adam, you said you wanted it by next week."

"Wake up, Jesse. It _is_ next week. Where is it?" Adam cocked his head in annoyance.

Puzzlement was uppermost. "Adam, you told me about it yesterday."

"_Last _week, Jesse. I told you last week. As in, last Friday. Four days ago, Jesse." Adam grimaced. "I take it this means that it isn't ready." He sighed, making his displeasure clear. "Another delay."

"I'll get working on it right away." Jesse still didn't understand. He definitely remembered discussing the project with Adam just yesterday when the older man had brought it up for the first time. It sounded interesting, a little tricky setting up the parameters but nothing that Jesse couldn't handle. Even with the resources of Sanctuary at his disposal it would take the better part of a day for the computer banks to finish crunching the data, and Jesse had intended to start on it in the morning. All work and no play, etc… And then he had the mutant drop off to do, the sixteen year old whose psionic gift was indefinable…

But Adam wanted results, and he wanted them now. Shrugging, Jesse plopped himself in front of the computer console and starting tapping at the keyboard, mentally resigning himself to another up-to-midnight session to get the project under control. _Not the first time, boss._

The comm. link beeped at him, and Jesse absently tapped at the key to establish the connection. "Go ahead."

"Jess, where are you, man?" Brennan totally ignored the fact that he had called Sanctuary. The question was rhetorical.

Jesse raised his eyebrows, his attention still on the computer screen in front of him. "I take it you think I ought to be somewhere else."

"Well, _yeah!_ Get your ass over here. We've got a mission, bro!"

"A mission?" _Okay, let's hit on bewilderment_. Jesse had totally missed that part of his life, the part where Brennan or whoever told him about a mission. And Jesse felt reasonably certain that he wouldn't have forgotten something like that. "Brennan, you didn't tell me about any mission. When did this come up?"

"Like an hour ago. Like when you said you were coming straight here. Like when I called you to tell you to meet me and the girls and a guy that I know that needs our help. That's when it came up."

"Brennan, an hour ago I had just finished dropping off Denise to the Underground. I was on my way back to Sanctuary."

"Jess, you are _so _having a senior moment here. Are you seriously telling me that you don't remember me calling you and telling you to get over to Clancy's Bar?"

"Dude, I would have remembered something like that."

"Then either I was talking to myself or you were doing something significantly nasty to that sixteen year old jailbait that you were dropping off—"

"Brennan—!"

"—it doesn't matter which. Just get your tail over here now, Jess. I mean it, bro. This is some heavy stuff over here, and we need you." Brennan clicked off, chopping off any rebuttal.

Jesse slumped back in the chair. Adam's project to work out, and now some unknown mission that Brennan was babbling about? Bedtime got pushed back a bit more. He'd be lucky not to see the sun rise.

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Clancy's was a little hole in the wall, popular with the locals and totally unknown to the out-of-towners. Clancy watered down the drinks only a little, reserving the good stuff for the regulars, and the omni-present cigarette smoke was only three feet thick in the rafters instead of cascading all the way down from ceiling to floor. Jesse walked in the front, looking for Brennan or any of his teammates.

Nothing. The dance floor was moderately crowded, but not so much that Jesse couldn't see all the participants, and neither Brennan, Shalimar, or Emma was among them. He let his gaze wander over to the bar. Yup, there was Clancy himself, fat and greasy and with a pretty good heart to go along with a larcenous soul, but no sign of Mutant X. Maybe in one of the back rooms? Maybe dashed off into the night after whatever the mission was? Jesse bellied up to the bar. "Hey, Clancy."

"Hey, Jesse," Clancy greeted him, wiping his hands on a dish rag. It looked dirty, and Jesse wondered once again how the man managed to stay one step ahead of the Department of Health. "What'll it be?"

"Just some info." Jesse glanced around once again. "Have you seen Brennan? Maybe Shalimar or Emma?"

Clancy shook his head. "Not tonight. You looking for 'em?" He pushed a foaming mug of beer in front of Jesse, knowing that the man would pay for it even though it hadn't been ordered. He was right. Jesse hauled out a couple of bills from his wallet, sighing. _Larcenous soul…_

Hm. Strange. "Brennan said he was here. Meeting someone."

Clancy shook his head again, this time with more certainty. "Not tonight, he wasn't. Haven't seen him all night. You sure he said to come here?"

"Yeah. Unless you know another bar run by a guy named Clancy."

"As it happens, I do, but that bar is in a little town called New York. Probably not the one Brennan told you about. But like I said, Jesse, I ain't seen Brennan all night, nor any of the girls, neither."

Hah. Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice in Wonderland liked to say. Well, Brennan wasn't Alice, and the three were obviously not where Brennan had said they would be. And since Clancy, usually a pretty reliable source, said he hadn't seen them… Jesse made his way to a quiet corner of the bar and raised his comm. link ring to his lips. "Brennan?"

"Jesse? What's keeping you, man?"

Jesse fought down a sense of exasperation. "I'm right here at Clancy's, Brennan. Where are you?"

"Clancy's? What are you doing there? We're at Chacko's, man. Jesse, we don't have time for games. Hurry it up, bro."

"You said—" Jesse broke it off. This was _so_ not his day. First Denise the teen-age mutant with an over-sized temper tantrum and an ego to match, then Adam, now Brennan, and both of them telling Mrs. Kilmartin's little boy that he was losing his marbles. Early Alzheimer's setting in? He should be so lucky. "I'm on my way. Chacko's, right?"

"Right. Move it, Jess."

Didn't have to tell him twice. What with Adam's project, and now this mission, it looked like Jesse would be lucky to get any sleep for a week.

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Chacko's was a good deal noisier than Clancy's but made up for it by being smoke-free. It also catered to a younger crowd; Jesse grabbed a bottle of over-priced water before heading over to the table where he spotted Brennan and the girls. It was hard to hear over the hard rock din and the squeals of the teeny-boppers pretending to be older than they were but Brennan gave him an impatient wave.

The fourth person sitting in the booth made Jesse think of a short, squat Brennan, one made out of a brick wall. The shoulders were broad and the torso thick but Jesse got the impression that there was a lot of muscle in that torso, and not just from popping steroids. There were some serious work-out delts under that shirt that more than made up for the meager stature. Short dark hair, gleaming brown eyes, big grin; Jesse considered feeling out-classed. _Nah.__ Muscles wouldn't mean much against a diamond-hard exterior_. Jesse had nothing to worry about—as long as there weren't any girls around that Jesse wanted to impress.

"Finally," Brennan greeted him. "Jesse, meet Kenny Dickerson, an old friend of mine."

"Kenny." Jesse nodded, shook hands. He slid into the booth, sitting next to Shalimar who scooted over to make room for him.

"Jesse." Kenny grinned in welcome, white teeth flashing. _Some serious dental cosmetic work there, too. Guy likes himself._ "Glad you could make it."

"So am I," Brennan added, a glare in his voice. _Late, dude!_

"Sorry to be late." _We'll talk about this later, Brennan; won't air the dirty laundry in front of guests. You told me _Clancy's_, and don't try to tell me that you didn't..._ "What's this about?"

"I need help," Kenny admitted. "Heavy duty help. So naturally, I thought of Brennan."

"We go way back," Brennan said with a proprietary grin. "Before Kenny turned legit."

"Before we _both_ turned legit, you mean," Kenny corrected. "I am now KD Enterprises, Limited."

"Limited to what?" Shalimar put in, curious.

"Haven't figured that out," Kenny told her cheerfully. "But, looking at what is going on with my latest job, I'm kinda thinking that I'm going to limit myself to computer security. Safer, is what I'm thinking. Knives and bullets are not my thing, and I'm thinking of developing a serious allergy to bombs."

"Bring me up to speed?" Jesse requested. This was getting interesting.

Brennan gave him a look, echoed by Emma, that very clearly said _if you'd gotten here on time in the first place, you'd know all this by now_. "Kenny is providing security for Thomas Merriwell."

"Ah." Jesse sat back in his seat. "That's a big target."

"You said it," Kenny agreed. "When I took the job, Mr. Merriwell wasn't so big. He was just another businessman out to make a relatively honest buck. They hired my firm—me, that is; I'm the only guy that I employ—to look into the security on their computers. Keep the little stuff, and the big stuff, from leaking out to the competitors."

"It worked," Jesse acknowledged. "I've been listening to the word on the street: Merriwell is the only guy who knows how to make this CAMS computer chip. He stands to make millions, assuming the chip is everything that the scuttlebutt says it is."

"Right," Kenny agreed. "Even federal governments can't touch him; the key to the chip is inside his head. The military can come and yell and screech to get the chip but unless they're polite, they don't even get the time of day from Mr. Merriwell. Needless to say, they are not happy campers. Let me tell you, guys: this is fun to watch."

"So what do you need Brennan for?" Emma asked. "What's the problem?"

Kenny sighed. "Not just Brennan. All of you. Like I said, I'm an expert in computer security, but the problem here is that we need an expert in security against stuff a little more overt."

"Like—?" Shalimar slid in.

"Like flying bullets," Kenny told her with a crooked grin. "Dark men in darker suits in darkest sedans. Kidnapping stuff. Last week they tried assassination."

"Isn't that a little extreme for a computer chip?" Emma wondered.

"This particular chip utilizes a new type of technology, one that manages to have the computer working on three different levels at once," Kenny replied. "Think multi-tasking to the nth degree. This will revolutionize the computer industry."

"And put major corporations out of business," Jesse realized. "Anyone stuck in the old technology will see their stocks plummet overnight. I can see why someone wouldn't want to have that sort of invention hit the marketplace. But assassination?"

"It's happening," Kenny said grimly. "Two attempts so far. Mr. Merriwell has been lucky. The first time his chauffeur managed to lose the guys. The second time I spotted the gun and yelled. Mr. Merriwell ducked, and as a result I still have an employer as well as a bonus. I'd like to keep him around; I like getting that regular paycheck." He gestured to the members of Mutant X. "And I'm willing to share that paycheck. It's pretty generous. I can afford it. I'd like to sub-contract out that part of the security detail to you guys."

"You don't need—" Emma started to say.

Brennan interrupted. "Speak for yourself, Emma. This guy can afford us; believe me, I checked. And I don't intend to work cheap. What do you need?"

"Bodyguards," Kenny answered promptly. "I can handle the computer security, and I've already got my claws poking around as to who might be interested in eliminating his competition. But that won't do me any good if my boss gets off-ed. I need someone who knows something about personal protection."

"I know a little about computers," Jesse offered. "Give me what you've got, and I'll do a little poking around, see what I can come up with on my end."

But it was Brennan who shook his head. "Don't bother, Jess. Kenny's got it covered."

"Bren?"

Brennan jerked his thumb at his old friend. "He's one of us."

"Ah." Understanding started to enter the picture.

But Brennan wasn't finished. "Computers, Jess. Kenny's into computers. I mean, _really_ into computers."

"As in—?"

Brennan grinned. "Yup. Leaps tall gigabytes in a single bound. Faster than a speeding RAM, more powerful than a motherboard with multiple USB hubs—"

"Okay, okay, I get the picture." But Jesse still had a concern. "Sounds good, guys, but what about Adam?" As in, _does he know?_

Brennan nodded. "And approves." _And you would have known this if you'd gotten here on time._

"Approves?"

"Approves," Brennan affirmed. "He's getting a good deal out of this, too."

"Oh?"

Kenny grinned. "How many guys do you know who get to have cutting edge technology put on their personal PC's? Trust me, guys: Mr. Merriwell is willing to pay handsomely for protection. He is one scared suit. Your services in exchange for a paycheck and a sample CAMS chip."

Jesse sat back and grinned. "Cutting edge technology? On a computer that _I_ get to use? Sounding better and better."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Four AM. Jesse leaned tiredly back in his chair, surveying the computer program in front of him. Finished, at last. Adam's project would chug away for the remainder of the night and have the answer for Jesse and for Adam sometime mid-afternoon tomorrow. _Today._ _Whatever_. Jesse rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to tell himself that he didn't have a headache, that it hadn't been one of the longest days he'd had in a long time, and that he could go to bed now and collapse.

His thoughts turned idly to the mission that Brennan had accepted on their behalf, racing furiously in circles despite his weariness. Helping another mutant, that was something they could all get behind, even though Jesse felt a little off-kilter with this one. Sure, he liked to get out into the field like the others but it felt funny to allow someone else to take the lead in the computer arena. Not that there was a better option; Jesse was good, but any mutant who could pour himself into the very wires and computer chips themselves could outdo a man with a keyboard any day.

He punched in a request for the database of mutants from the computer, pulled up the file on Kenneth Dickerson, AKA Kenny. The info was a little on the scanty side; Jesse snorted. Not surprising, for any friend of Brennan. The database on Brennan himself had been a little scanty up until recently.

Kenny was in his mid-twenties, had grown up in a bad section of town and had not been a model citizen. That was obvious, despite the juvenile records being sealed. Jesse could guess what was in them from talking to Brennan: shop-lifting, juvie scams, a little grand theft auto when big bucks were needed for the latest electronic toy. Hadn't graduated high school, although that didn't mean much. Jesse was willing to bet that an ordinary public school couldn't keep up with a kid who could jump into the nearest computer and play in an internet fantasy for hours on end. _Role playing games to the max, dude_.

There the intel ended. Sometime in the last year Kenny had gone straight, had formed KD Enterprises, and was now legitimately fleecing honest and not so honest businesses for the privilege of delving into their computer systems and rooting out the spyware that would siphon off industry secrets to the highest bidder. Real-life role playing games, Jesse decided, with the added advantage of not only getting paid for the game but not getting hassled by the cops.

Okay, looked good, even though Jesse couldn't shake a feeling that something underhanded was going on. Maybe it was just because Kenny was a friend of Brennan's; seemed like everyone the elemental knew had a shady background. If Jesse was going to work with Brennan, he was going to have to getpast this concept.

He sighed, feeling the need for bed, wondering how Shalimar was faring. The feral had volunteered to go back with Kenny to the Merriwell estate to start the job right away. As the liveliest of the bunch at night, the other three had graciously and quickly agreed to her plan, which meant that Shalimar was now happily prowling the bushes outside a certain mansion looking for trouble. He grinned, and tapped the comm. link. "Shalimar?"

"Jesse?" Her voice came back quick and strong. "What are you doing up? Don't you know what time it is?"

"Time for good little boys to be in bed," he agreed, "which is where I'm headed. Just finished working on Adam's research program. You got anything?"

"Not a thing," Shalimar admitted. "Everything's quiet. Nothing to report." Pause. "Go to bed, Jess. Your shift at the mansion will be coming up soon."

"Got it. G'night, Shal."

"'Night, Jess."

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The alarm clock rang entirely too soon for his liking, and Jesse stumbled blindly out of his room in search of something highly caffeinated and hot. Coffee, lots of it, with as much natural stimulant in it as he could manage after last night. Then a shower, and he might even turn into something vaguely approaching human.

Emma was there in the kitchen, sipping on her own mug. Something soothing and herbal wafted from the brew she was drinking; her legs were crossed with the morning paper ruffled out in front of her, perusing the news of the last twenty four hours, getting ink onto red-tipped fingertips. Even this early in the morning she looked good: dark red hair fluffed around elfin features, the lean and taut body tucked into tight jeans. Wait—it wasn't early in the morning. No wonder Emma looked good. She'd been up for several hours at least. Jesse had overslept.

Well, he considered himself entitled, after working so late last night. His shift on Brennan's mission with his buddy Kenny wouldn't start until sometime later this afternoon when boss man Merriwell needed to make an excursion to a business meeting in town. He glanced at his watch, not yet trusting his voice to function. Brennan would already be at the Merriwell mansion, and Shalimar on her way back home for some well deserved rest.

_Whack!_

Jesse saw stars, the result of a swift and sudden blow to his head. "Hey—" he started to say.

"How _dare_ you!" Emma hissed. "How dare you broadcast _that _kind of thought at me!" She shook her finger in his face. "Do that _ever_ again, Jesse Kilmartin, and I will fix it so that you _never_ have those thoughts for the rest of your life!" Emma slammed her mug down on the counter and flounced out of the kitchen.

"What—?" Jesse's head rang, and he blinked several times to clear it. "Huh? What did I do?"

Adam ambled into the kitchen, aiming for the coffee-maker, tossing a backward glance over his shoulder. "Good. You're finally up. Did you finish my project yet?" And, without waiting for an answer, added, "and what did you say to Emma? I've never seen her so angry, at least not often."

Jesse worked his jaw. It wasn't working too well after Emma belting him one, and he was worried that his thoughts weren't any better. "I'm not sure. I don't think I said anything."

"You must have said something," Adam replied. "Emma doesn't get worked up over nothing."

Jesse shrugged. "I'll apologize." It was the easy way out, and Jesse had learned long ago not to argue with a pissed off woman. And as for one who was an empath? Well, Jesse himself was no dummy. _You may not have done anything wrong, but apologize anyway. That was the Twelfth Commandment: always apologize to the woman, especially when she's wrong. That came right after the Eleventh Commandment: thou shalt hang up thy choir robes neatly._

Adam accepted his answer. "You finish the computer program?"

"Got it chugging away right now." Jesse was grateful to be able to say yes. The late hours were worth it; at least there was something going right. The last twenty-four hours had been an exercise in wrong things going even more wrong. "Should be ready sometime this afternoon."

Adam frowned. "I had hoped that you would have it by now."

Jesse groaned. "Adam, give me a break! I didn't finish writing the code until four AM. The computer here won't work any faster, and it's one of the fastest brains around."

"I wouldn't have had tocome toyou if you'd done it last week asI asked."

Jesse closed his eyes, took a sip of hot coffee before saying anything that he regretted. _The same thing applies to genius scientists: apologize. Don't argue_. _Just apologize_. "I'm sorry, Adam. I must have forgotten."

"Don't let it happen again," Adam grouched. He set down his coffee cup, and pointedly looked at his watch, then at Jesse in his current state of dishabille. Jesse fled to the showers.

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Early afternoon, and Jesse was ready. Completely ready. Well-dressed, ready for the job of bodyguarding one of the currently most important men in the computer industry, ready to escort one of the currently most powerful empaths in the world to the afore-mentioned job. Good thing, too, because Emma still hadn't forgiven him, sending him an occasional frigid glare if she happened to catch his gaze_. Too many mistakes made over the last twenty-four hours, Kilmartin. Used up your share. Let someone else make the mistakes now. Hopefully the assassins that you're supposed to be guarding against._

Adam sauntered by, nodding approvingly. "Looking good, folks. Brennan just called in, said that Merriwell will be ready to go inside of an hour. Just enough time for the two of you to get over there; Shalimar will join you as soon as she wakes up. Jesse, you're bodyguard number one. Any bullets fired, you're up. Emma, you and Brennan will be handling the survey detail. Brennan says that Kenny is trying the computer route, trying to see who's behind all of this, but so far no luck. If someone does take a pot shot at Merriwell, I want you three to capture him alive. We'll see if he knows anything."

"Got it," Emma said. "Jesse? Ready to go?"

"Hold it." Adam halted them with a hand. "Jesse, what about my program?"

"Almost done," Jesse assured his mentor. "In fact, it should be completed right about," and he looked at his watch, "now."

"Good." Adam tapped on the console of the unit slaved to the mainframe, searching for the answers before the originator left on his assignment. He frowned, and tapped again. Then tapped some more. "What name did you put it under?"

"Mentor 18A, as usual. Won't it come up?"

"Oh, it'll come up all right." Adam tightened his lips. "The file name comes up beautifully. Just one little problem, Jesse."

"Uh-oh." Jesse had a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"There's nothing in the file." Adam sighed angrily, heaving the gust of wind in Jesse's direction. "You managed to erase not only the program, but all my data as well. Thanks, Jesse."

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"I can't understand it," Jesse fretted. "Where did the data go? Adam's program was humming along perfectly last night." He turned the wheel of the Miata, putting the little car easily through the curve ahead of the black SUV filled with screaming kids and soccer moms. "The only time I've ever seen a program crash as extensively as that was that time that Brennan accidentally put a ton of voltage through the power box."

Emma sent another glare filled with icy daggers. "So now you're blaming Brennan for your screw up, Jesse?"

"Hey, I didn't say that!" Jesse stomped on the brakes a little harder than he liked to avoid a big Caddy that decided that stop signs were only meant for the little people. Even that drew another angry look from his teammate. On the spot Jesse decided to cut his losses, and shut up. Nothing was going right. Maybe, if he was lucky, the assassin would take aim at his target, and Jesse would get in the way without a sheet of dense armor. That would solve all of Jesse's problems. _Right, Kilmartin. And, for an encore, we're going to stand in front of a cold window until we catch pneumonia and die. Then won't everyone be sorry?_

Jesse sighed. _Probably not_.

The Merriwell estate was huge. Jesse parked the little Miata behind the building designed for the fleet of vehicles owned by the nouveau riche Mr. Merriwell, hoping that no one would notice the comparatively cheap vehicle. Jaguars, Rolls, even Hummers with every accessory known to teen-age boys and a few even they hadn't thought of—Mr. Merriwell had learned to enjoy life in short order. Jesse was amazed that Brennan wasn't out here in this over-sized garage, drooling over the engines tuned to within an inch of perfection.

The tall elemental noted their arrival, and came sauntering out to meet them, Kenny in tow.

"All's quiet," he greeted them, "not that I expected anyone to make a move here on the estate. Kenny's got some heavy duty security set up along the perimeter. The squirrels are having trouble stealing acorns from the oaks around here."

"Least I could do," Kenny grinned, "especially seeing as how my ass lives inside, too. I may not be much in the way of punching out the opposition," and he flexed the biceps on one arm, the muscles rippling inside taut skin, giving the lie to his words, "but I do know electronic security."

"Got that right," Brennan smirked, sharing a private old joke. Emma admired the interplay of muscles. Jesse carefully kept quiet.

Kenny led them inside, and Jesse silently admired the ostentatious display of new money. It had a familiar look to it: the heavy velvet drapes in a long single swath, the halls carpeted in pile so deep that the rug would qualify as a mattress. Even the entrance hall boasted its own fountain, the three cherubs maliciously squirting water through a white-washed computer tower. Jesse looked twice at that one: Merriwell had clearly had it made to order, to symbolize his luck at computer technology and thumb his nose at the world at the same time. He did a closer scan: the keyboard, also white-washed, had four keys depressed. The keys were A, S, C, and M.

"Shal did a perimeter sweep last night, checking out the lay of the land," Brennan informed them. "Good news, there's a fence around the whole estate, all five miles of it, with some of Kenny's finest tinker toys hard-wired in. Anyone climbing over that fence will set off a silent alarm in the house, and we'll have at least five minutes before they get close enough to do any damage."

"And the bad?" Emma asked.

Kenny shrugged. "Anyone flying over the fence or not touching it will get in undetected. It works by touch and proximity, but I can't do an entire shield over the estate. It's just too big, and there are too many things to go wrong. The ground hogs are playing havoc with the buried wires and there's a red fox that I swear is laughing at me every time he sets off the proximity alert."

Jesse acknowledged the limitations of the system. "How about inside?"

"That I have hard-wired," Kenny said. "Sensors on all the entrances and exits, all the windows, anything where anything bigger than a medium-sized rat could get in. Everything is hooked up to a central computer that sends a page to both me and to the local police."

"The police?" Brennan looked surprised. "He doesn't have his own squad of bodyguards?"

Kenny shrugged. "Up till now, he hasn't needed it. He hasn't been big enough to attract the attention of the big boys. Now that the CAMS chip is finished, it's a whole 'nother ball game." He gestured broadly at Mutant X. "Welcome to Mr. Merriwell's new team of bodyguards. Until he hires his own set, of course."

Brennan grinned equally as broadly. "Let's get started, troops."


	2. Desires and Deceptions 2

"Okay, I'm driving," Brennan announced. Which didn't surprise Jesse one iota. Powerful V8 engine that could do zero to sixty in fifteen seconds including time to start the car and fasten the seat belts, dark tinted windows, and enough gadgets that even Brennan couldn't try them all on the half hour trip to Merriwell's business meeting? Jesse would have been surprised if Brennan _hadn't_ tried to take the wheel. Jesse contented himself with staying in the front passenger's side, admiring the high tech toys that had been added to the console. Kenny, in the back seat with Mr. Merriwell and Emma, grinned broadly, by which Jesse came to understand that half the technology present was at Kenny's suggestion.

The three of them, plus Kenny, would be accompanying Mr. Merriwell to the meeting. Emma, formally dressed in a suit that made her look like Merriwell's top vice president, would be escorting him inside and scanning for any trace of something more than business envy. It was certain that one or more of those present would not be happy to see the adoption and purchase of Merriwell's new technology, and getting a psychic hint could be very valuable as to who their opponent was.

The rest had their assigned roles: Brennan played chauffeur of course, Jesse opted for dark shades to look more fitting for the role of Number One Bodyguard, and Kenny did the heavy toting of computer equipment that Merriwell would use during the presentation. Shalimar too would be joining them, posing as part of Merriwell's sales team, and was driving herself over even as they pulled up in front of the building. The man, Jesse decided, would have the best protection that Mutant X could provide. It would be a come-down for Mr. Merriwell once this job was over and he hired his own people. Jesse snorted. Non-mutants. People with ordinary capabilities. Good people, yes, but without that little extra _something_ that made mutants so formidable. _Enjoy it while you can, Mr. Merriwell. It's only because Kenny is friends with Brennan that you have us to help._

Jesse found himself studying Mr. Merriwell on the trip over. It was the first time he'd ever met the man, and what he saw seemed less than impressive. Jesse was used to people a wee bit larger than life: Adam Kane, genetic scientist and bona fide genius. Brennan Mulwray, not only an elemental but with expertise in martial arts that went way beyond average. Shalimar Fox, a woman who if she couldn't knock you over with sheer beauty could land a jaw-breaker that would accomplish the same thing. And Emma DeLauro? Jesse blessed his lucky stars that the powerful empath was on his side. _I hope; Emma was none too pleased with me this morning. And I still don't know what I did. I just really, really hope that I don't do it again._

Frank Merriwell was none of these things. He was almost non-descript: a small and mouse-like sort of man, shorter than Jesse and certainly less broad across the shoulders. Brown hair, brown eyes that failed to light up with the sort of excitement that Jesse was accustomed to in talking with Adam. It was as if there was something missing in the man.

No matter. Having the personality of a hunch-backed toad wasn't a crime, and it obviously didn't preclude having the genius to come up with the CAMS chip that was going to revolutionize the computer industry once it went into production. Which, if Kenny was even close to being correct, would be shortly after this meeting where Merriwell garnered financial backing for this scheme.

Jesse indulged himself by daydreaming of the sheer pleasure Adam would get with this chip. That was to be the payment for the help that Mutant X was giving Merriwell and Kenny: a CAMS chip for installation into Sanctuary computers. Kenny had assured them that with the amount of computer firepower that Sanctuary had, the chip would slide right in and speed up operations by a factor of ten or more. Adam had drooled at the thought. Jesse himself liked fast computers—_power! More power!_—but Adam's most frequent complaint was that the mainframes couldn't keep up with him. _Times are tough when you're a genius, Adam_.

Brennan pulled into the parking lot, sliding up to the sidewalk to let his passengers out before parking the car. Shalimar was already waiting for them, currently masquerading as a high powered personal assistant with hair pulled back in a sedate bun and hiding her eyes behind glasses that did nothing to hamper her vision or her good looks. Even Mr. Merriwell couldn't help the little smile that lit up when he spotted the feral. _'Nother conquest, Shal?_

Kenny gathered them all into a small group before proceeding inside. "Okay, gang, I know we've gone over this but I need to say it one more time. We're all there for show and cover and protection. No talking; let Mr. Merriwell say everything that needs to be said. He's the one with the computer smarts. Don't argue with him even if he says something that sounds wrong."

Brennan darted a look at Jesse, their acknowledged computer geek at Sanctuary. _Get the message, bro? That one's aimed at you_.

Kenny moved on. "Stay close. Everyone here has their own security measures, and we can take advantage of that by concentrating our own forces around Mr. Merriwell."

Emma frowned. "That's not the way we work, Kenny."

"It is today." Kenny brushed aside her objections. "We don't have enough people to spread out. We cover Mr. Merriwell, and let the others handle outside security. If anything comes in through the windows or doors, that's our department. Right, Mr. Merriwell?"

"Right." Kenny's employer turned himself on like a robot with its power button pushed. "Trust me on this one; I've been using the resources of other people all of my life. They will look for people approaching this building who shouldn't be. All I need is for someone to be watching for the immediate threat." He swiveled around to bestow a smile on Brennan. "Are you sure I can't give you a CAMS chip right now for Dr. Kane? I want you all to know just how much I appreciate what you're doing for me." He patted the briefcase he was carrying. "Got an extra one right here."

Brennan grinned back. It felt odd, working for Kenny, his old buddy. They had always been partners, not employer/employee. No matter. Kenny was Kenny, an old friend and compatriot from the streets. He was a good guy. Brennan continued, "We'll take it after we earn it, Mr. Merriwell. Right now let's get inside so that I'm not worrying about snipers on rooftops."

Shalimar's eyes yellowed. She scanned the area. "Not a problem, Brennan. Not yet, anyway."

"Good." Brennan's eyes darted around the same territory. It wasn't that he didn't trust the feral's instincts, it was just that being distrustful of every situation was part of his nature. He could rely on Mutant X, on Kenny; not on anyone further out. "Let's get inside." He herded them toward the entrance, their charge in the midst of the group.

Shalimar moved up alongside Jesse. Jesse had positioned himself behind; any stray bullets to come in their direction would have to go through him, and the bullet would find it tough going to get through the solid density that Jesse intended to offer. Shalimar touched him lightly on the arm. "Did you get the information I asked for?"

Jesse frowned. "What information, Shal?"

Now it was the feral's turn to frown. "Glen Shadling. I asked you to look him up. I found traces of him on the grounds of the estate. And I'm getting a hinky feeling about him."

"Shal, you didn't say word one to me about any Glen Shadling."

Shalimar's frown deepened. "Are you saying that you don't remember calling me up at four AM this morning?"

"No, but you didn't mention any Shadling guy. You said everything was quiet, and I signed off. Then went to bed."

Shalimar sighed, trying to keep her annoyance in check. "You must have forgot, Jess." She glanced around one last time before the group entered the elevator. "I really wish you'd checked, Jess. I have a funny feeling that this Shadling guy might be important. I'd like to know more about him." They moved out of the elevator as one mass, passing other masses involved in similar maneuvers around other important targets.

Jesse suppressed his own sigh. Forgetting things seemed to have been happening a lot lately, and he fell back on the standard response, perfected over a multiplicity of times. "Sorry, Shal. I'll do it as soon as I get to a computer."

Kenny had been listening in. "Not a problem, guys. Let's get settled inside, and I'll show you what a real expert in computer security can do."

"Good." Jesse didn't have to be an empath to hear the unspoken follow up line that Shalimar didn't voice: _'cause we need one_. He winced.

It was less a meeting room and more of an auditorium that the meeting was to be held in, although it would seat less than fifty people. Mutant X immediately went to work to secure the area: Shalimar stalked the perimeter, and Brennan checked out the electronic surveillance gear in the various corners of the room. Emma didn't quite close her eyes, but Jesse got the impression that the empath did the mental equivalent while scanning the immediate area for anyone whose thoughts were less than stellar. Jesse himself? _Me, I'm pure defense. Stand here, looking impenetrable in case a bullet or a knife comes flying in this direction. Right. Like that's going to happen here in this room without windows and access to assassins from afar. Do they really need me here?_

Mutant X regrouped, huddled around their charge with Kenny hanging on the edge. Kenny hauled out his laptop and moved to the center of the group for cover, powering up the little machine. "Searching for network access," he muttered, watching the interplay of little screen changes. "Searching, ah, there we are. Internet access achieved. Love the wireless concept." He glanced around the room. It was filling swiftly with men and women in three piece suits, several of whom were eying the stars of the afternoon with undisguised interest. "Guys, can you cover me?"

Brennan moved into position, his bulk obscuring the smaller Kenny from the view of the onlookers. "Go for it, man."

Kenny cracked his knuckles in anticipation. "Glen Shadling. Right, Shal?"

"Right."

Brennan had seen this before, but the rest of Mutant X had not. One moment Kenny was there, and the next he had _swooped_ into the little laptop itself. Jesse could have sworn that the laptop screen _waved_ at them, and the man was gone.

Mr. Merriwell permitted himself a small smile. "It's what gave me the idea for the CAMS chip. Intriguing, isn't he?"

"Best search engine I've ever dealt with," Brennan agreed, clearly proud of his friend. "You should see what he used to come up with."

"Good thing he's gone legit," Shalimar nodded. "I hate to think what he could do if he hadn't."

Kenny was back within seconds, flashing into existence once again as a normal human being, no sign that anything unusual had ever happened. No one in the auditorium noticed anything.

"Well?"

"Sorry, Shal," Kenny reported. "I checked the guy out. Real low-life. Out on parole two weeks ago and took a job doing some grounds maintenance with the company that Mr. Merriwell uses. Picked up two nights ago for trying to knock over a liquor store, and is currently back inside. That must have been how you picked up on him, but he's not a threat. Not from behind bars, he's not. And he doesn't have the smarts or the ambition to do anything from inside."

Shalimar accepted the information. "Thanks, Kenny. That was fast."

"Always aim to please the lady." Kenny grinned engagingly.

Jesse bit down hard on his tech-envy. It wasn't Kenny's fault that he was naturally good at computers. _Comes with the mutant territory_. "Nice work," he offered magnanimously.

"What can I say? It's a gift." Kenny cocked his head. "Sure you can't let me into Sanctuary, Brennan? Promise; I'll speed up your computer systems like nobody's business. Just ask Mr. Merriwell."

Merriwell snorted. "Hah. You think I'm about to let you go off so easily, just when the hard work is beginning, Kenny? Let Dr. Kane get his own mutant computer genius."

"Yeah, but from what I hear, the computers Sanctuary's got would be sheer joy to go playing around in." Kenny gestured at the laptop. "Just give me the IP address, Brennan. I swear I'll be back in a year or so."

"Maybe," Brennan laughed. "Adam's pretty touchy about computer security. Even Jess sometimes has trouble with all the protection. You should see what we have to go through just to get a live mutant inside. Blindfolds that work directly on the optic nerve, and even then Adam is jumpy as all get out."

"Like I said, Brennan: you need a computer mutant. Make your lives _so_ much easier."

"I'll talk to Adam," Brennan promised. "Let's just get through this job first, bro."

_Bro_. The word cut through Jesse like a knife. The old relationship that Brennan had had with Kenny was kicking back into high gear and pushing the newer one with Jesse out of the way. Brennan was already giving Kenny implicit permission to join Mutant X and, from the sound of it, Shalimar and Emma were agreeing with him. Nobody looked at Jesse. The molecular was suddenly grateful for the dark glasses that he was wearing, for it cut down the exposure his features had to the open air. There wasn't much he could do about the empath, but he could at least pretend to be pleased for Brennan and Shalimar. _Yes, Kenny would make a lovely addition to Mutant X. Then we wouldn't have to put up with Jesse's forgetting everything all the time, would we? Wouldn't have to put up with Jesse's whining about having to stay behind and monitor the mission. _He schooled his features to impassivity and settled back to listen to Mr. Merriwell make his pitch.

Kenny was right: the speech that Mr. Merriwell gave sounded wrong. Oh, all the words were there, and in the right order, but the concepts behind the CAMS chip didn't make sense. Or, they did, but they flew in the face of conventional computer science. Everything was backward. It was as if Brennan had suddenly decided to start sucking the electricity out of everything instead of throwing lightning bolts, or if Jesse himself felt the need to become dense in order to pass through a brick wall. Something wasn't right.

And the audience knew it. Jesse tried not to concentrate on the words that Merriwell was using. His job was that of bodyguard, not salesman. This was Merriwell's baby, his chip to sell to this doubting crowd. Jesse pushed himself to scan the room constantly from behind the dark shades, watching for an odd movement that would signal the need for quick action. A cough here, the mild scratch of a nose there; all perfectly innocent, and no attempts during the entire speech. Then it was over.

"They didn't buy it." Merriwell was downcast. "Not one of them believed the technology, despite what I said."

"Yeah, but it got them to thinking," Kenny argued. "Listen, a couple of those guys—not the business types but the Pentagon types—they were interested. I handed out a bunch of business cards, Mr. Merriwell. You wait a week; the offers are going to start creeping in. You'll see."

Emma agreed. "There was plenty of curiosity, Mr. Merriwell. It wouldn't surprise me if some of them acted on that curiosity. They simply need time to consult with their technical staff. What you said flew over their head. All except the part about turning the computer industry upside down. That part got through."

Merriwell's face lit up with cautious hope. "You're the empath, right? You really think so? That's what you felt?"

"These are not people to commit billions of dollars on a whim," Emma assured him. "They will do their due diligence. They will check this technology out. Then, if they think it will benefit them, they'll come calling with a vengeance."

"Maybe you'd better whip up a few chips for demo models," Brennan suggested. "One person buys into this, the world will beat a path toyour better mousetrap."

"I can do that," Merriwell mused. He eyed Brennan hopefully. "You can persuade Dr. Kane to use my CAMS chip? That would show a lot of them." He began to get excited. "Come back to the estate, and I'll get you one. The top of the line model. That would work; that would show everyone that the CAMS chip works."

"Let's get _you_ back to the estate first," Brennan advised. He scanned the area: dusk by now, with all of the non-buying participants already well into their vehicles and on their way home. "This could be the dangerous part."

"It is." Emma's eyes were glazed over, zeroing in on malevolent thoughts. "There's someone out there, guys. We have company."

"Form up," Brennan ordered immediately. "Shal, move out! See if you can find whoever it is."

"On it." Shalimar was gone in a feral flash.

"All right, listen up." Brennan was no nonsense, taking charge automatically. "I'll get the car. Wait inside until I pull up, then escort Mr. Merriwell to the car. Blast anyone who comes near. Got it?" He pushed his way to the door, vanishing through the crowd.

Jesse used his comm. link as soon as Brennan disappeared toward the vehicle. He held the little group back, waiting for the all clear to sound or at least, a signal to move forward. "Shal? Anything?"

"Not yet," came the murmured reply. "Still hunting. There's definitely someone out there, and I smell gunpowder and bullets. Keep your heads down. I'll meet you at the car once Mr. Merriwell's safe inside. That sedan is bullet-proof, right?"

Merriwell swallowed hard. "This is real, isn't it?"

"Very real," Emma told him. "But that's what you hired us for. We'll keep you safe."

Kenny clutched his precious laptop to his chest like a bulky shield. "Like I told you, Mr. Merriwell; I only get the best. Especially when it's my neck on the line, too."

The large black sedan pulled up to the edge of the sidewalk, Brennan behind the wheel. There was twenty feet between the door and the car. Twenty long feet, all fraught with danger.

"We'll keep Mr. Merriwell in the center as we walk out. Walk, don't run," Jesse ordered. "I don't want any of us accidentally tripping and falling flat on their face. Shal? Brennan? We're moving out."

"Coming in," Shalimar's quiet reply came back. "Haven't found anyone. Might be gone. Given up. Not sure. If he's here, he'll be coming at you from the West."

"Be careful," was Brennan's contribution. "Jess, you handle the western approach. You know what to do."

"Right." Any bullets or other flying objects wouldn't get past a densely phased Jesse Kilmartin. He changed places with Kenny, placing himself in the line of fire between any assassin and Mr. Merriwell. "Ready, everyone?"

"No," Merriwell whispered, his face pale.

Emma winked reassuringly. "Piece of cake." And aimed a jolt of telempathic endorphins at the man. A fatuous smile appeared on his mousy brown face. "Let's go."

They pushed out through the doors, scanning the horizon for any sign of any potential assassin. Shalimar would be coming in from the East, Jesse knew, having swiftly explored that half of the area. There was no time to check out the West, but if Emma still felt a malevolent presence, that was where it had to be coming from. Jesse concentrated on the tops of the tall buildings, hoping for a glimpse of anything that would give them advance warning; a glint on a rifle barrel, a slight movement where no movement should be. Anything.

_Crack!_

Kenny yelped, and fell back. His laptop fell to the ground.

East! It came from the East!

"Shalimar!" Jesse yelled into his comm. link, certain that the feral had suddenly been taken out. How else could an assassin have gotten past her?

_Get the job done_. Jesse grabbed Mr. Merriwell and rushed him to the waiting sedan. Another crack! Jesse swiftly phased, felt the bullet shatter against his diamond hard surface, and then he was pushing the man into the back of the car. Emma was right behind him with Kenny, a smoking laptop in the computer mutant's hands, wires sprouting from a slender hole in the case. Shalimar dove in head first after them, yelling, "Go! Go! Go!"

Brennan slammed his foot onto the accelerator.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It didn't take long. Brennan cornered Jesse as soon as they had gotten Mr. Merriwell safely into the mansion on his estate and behind the secure gates and perimeters. He advanced on the molecular, fire in his eye. Even the trio of cherubs sprinkling water into the fountain quivered in fear. "You were out of position, Jess! What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was not out of position!" Jesse blazed back. "Shal checked out the eastern section! That's what she said!"

"West, _bro_." There was no affection in the term this time, only anger. "She said _west_. She checked out the _western_ half! Kenny almost bought it because you took the wrong side. That was _your_ place, and you blew it! We're lucky that the bullet only took out one damn expensive laptop instead of going straight through his heart! He could have been killed!"

"East!" Jesse insisted. "Shalimar said east!"

"Sorry, Jess." Shalimar and Emma entered the room, trailed by a pale and shaking and exceedingly lucky computer mutant. "Jess, I told you west," Shalimar said ruefully.

Emma nodded. "That's what I heard, Jesse. When you took the wrong side, I thought that maybe _I'd_ heard wrong."

Kenny stepped in, trying to defuse the anger circulating, worried at the naked fury flashing back and forth between the mutants. "Look, it's okay, guys. Everybody's safe; nobody got hurt. No damage done; well, maybe to a certain laptop, but that can always be replaced." He winced. "Ouch. There were a couple of really nice jpeg's that I downloaded to play with. Real super-model stuff; amazing what you can do in cyber-space. Oh, well. Easy come, easy go. There's always a new super-model with pictures on the 'net. I can get more. It's okay, guys."

"No, it's _not_ okay." Brennan turned back to Jesse. "You've been screwing up a lot recently, _bro_. You need to get your head on straight."

"Brennan—"

"He's right, Jesse." _Et tu, Shal?_ "You've been forgetting things, ignoring what we say," Shalimar continued with a _this'll-hurt-me-more-than-you_ air. "We've been picking up after you."

"This isn't like you, Jesse," Emma said. "What's going on? What's wrong?"

Jesse's response was interrupted by the crackle of the comm. link. Each one of Mutant X jumped.

Adam's voice came through. "Jesse. You there?" There was no warmth in the scientist's tones but plenty of heat.

Jesse raised his comm. link hand to his mouth. "Yes, Adam?" _What had gone wrong with the computer program now?_

It wasn't the computer program.

"I thought you said you dropped Denise off to the Underground," Adam snapped.

"I did. Why?"

"I was just contacted by her foster parents. They said you never showed."

_Shock; disbelief_. "Adam, I turned her over to them yesterday afternoon. They were there, both of them!"

"That's not what they said, Jesse." Any more ice, and the words would have frozen the comm. link.

"But—"

"I think you'd better get back to Sanctuary, Jesse."

"But—"

"Sanctuary, Jesse. _Now_."

Jesse looked up at the others. No help there, only pity from Emma and Shalimar. Kenny was unreadable. Not so Brennan: the elemental was breathing fire. Jesse left.


	3. Desires and Deceptions 3

"Adam, I can help find—"

"I think you've done enough, Jesse." Adam cut him off curtly. "The other things have been careless and thoughtless, but this? Jesse, this is a sixteen year old girl we're talking about who is now out on the streets and alone for Genomex to find. And you deliberately lied to me about it! Why didn't you tell me that you lost her?"

"I didn't lie to you, Adam," Jesse insisted. "I don't know what's going on here, but I dropped Denise Vetchner off directly to her foster parents at the terminal where we arranged to meet. All three of them waved as I left."

"Oh, so now Mary and Joe Dunn are lying to me, is that it?" Adam folded his arms, radiating annoyance. "Two people that I've known for over thirty years?"

Jesse side-stepped the issue. "Listen, I'll get on the computer, see if I can track her down—"

"No."

Jesse stopped short.

"Jesse, I want you to go to your room and stay there." Adam had had enough. "I don't know what your problem is, but right now I have neither the time nor the inclination to deal with it. You should have outgrown nonsense like this when you were twelve. Go to your room and stay out of my way."

"Adam—"

"Are you not hearing this either, Jesse? _Go_. I'll deal with you later. After we find Denise. And rescue her _again_."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Makes a pretty good case, Adam," Shalimar said. Mutant X was back home in Sanctuary, de-briefing over the botched bodyguard mission. Brennan deposited four mugs onto the table in front of them, and Emma took a welcome sip. Shalimar went on. "I mean, look what Kenny was able to do: he tracked down that false lead I found on Gary Shadling in thirty seconds flat and was able to discount it so that we didn't waste any more time. Even you couldn't do that. Not that fast. He's good."

"It's the dawn of the New Millenium," Brennan agreed. "Electricity is useful out in the field. Shalimar's feral abilities are definitely a plus in the field, and we can't do without Emma's empathic talents. But the computer? That's a whole new arena, and Kenny is an expert. More than that; he's a mutant who can go _into_ computers. Jesse keeps complaining about getting stuck behind, monitoring the missions. What if we added someone to the team whose _job_ was to do that? Someone who could outdo us all with computers because he was literally _born_ to be a computer?"

"You've got a point," Adam conceded thoughtfully, looking over the three members of Mutant X. "I will definitely consider it, but not at this moment. Right now there's a sixteen year old girl out there somewhere, someone with mutant powers that we don't know much about. We need to find her first and get her to her foster parents. Any delay could mean her death; Genomex is after her, and we don't know who else. Not only that, the stress of being on her own in a world hostile to New Mutants could trigger her powers. And if those powers are lethal, who knows what could happen?" He sighed. "Priorities, guys. First, find Denise and get her settled. Second, I'm installing this CAMS chip that you earned for me." Adam smiled broadly, holding the chip up in the air to admire. "Can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to using this," he informed them. "This is almost as good as a birthday and Christmas rolled into one." He dismissed his team, the three that were present. "Go see if you can find any leads on Denise. After we get her squared away, I'll consider adding Kenny Dickerson to the team. Assuming he wants in."

"Oh, he wants in," Brennan assured them all. "He can't wait to play in the Sanctuary computers. This would be a dream come true for him. Trust me; I've known him for years."

"Shall I tell Jesse to work on the computer search for Denise?" Emma asked.

Adam considered, then shook his head. "No. Like I said, I don't know what Jesse has going on inside his head, but he's clearly not focused on Mutant X right now. Let's leave him out of this for the time being. Go find Denise. Then we'll talk about Kenny joining the team."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Adam had told him not to leave his room, but the older man had said nothing about monitoring Sanctuary, and that was what Jesse was doing: checking every console and nook and cranny of Sanctuary remotely through the internal cameras and audio links. It kept him in contact with at least a little of the outside world.

There had been a great deal of pacing at first: back and forth, back and forth, wearing a single track in the area carpet across the center of his bedroom and bored out of his skull until he hit on the concept of monitoring through the computer network. _Better than pacing_.

Jesse could have sworn that Shalimar had told them that the attack would come from the west. Even now, after a period to think about what had happened, Jesse was still ready to declare the same thing. And that he had changed positions based on what Shalimar had said, to protect the computer mutant from an assassin's bullet that only Jesse had the power to defend against. He _had_ heard Shalimar say that she checked out the east, that it was safe in that direction.

Brennan and the rest were right; there had been a lot of mistakes going on over the last few days: Adam's lost computer program, the lost sixteen year old who had apparently never been seen by her foster parents—and Jesse _knew_ that he handed her directly over to the Dunn's—not to mention forgetting Brennan's mission with Kenny. Was he going crazy? Early Alzheimer's setting in? Neither option sounded particularly appealing. _Has to be my DNA: all this phasing is hardening my cerebral arteries and affecting my brain.__ Great._

But although Adam hadn't wanted to deal with a crazy molecular roaming the halls of Sanctuary, he hadn't forbidden Jesse computer access. And Jesse had a console in his room. One that was currently in use, monitoring the conversations going on in the various rooms and hallways of Sanctuary. One discussion in particular came in loud and clear:

_"Shall I tell Jesse to work on the computer search for her?" Emma asked._

_Adam's voice came next. "No. Like I said, I don't know what Jesse has going on inside his head, but he's clearly not focused on Mutant X right now. Let's leave him out of this for the time being. Go find Denise. Then we'll talk about Kenny joining the team."_

Jesse went cold. Whatever was going on, Mutant X didn't need him. Adam didn't even want him helping from behind the scenes, doing a computer search from the safety of Sanctuary. Hadn't asked him to install the CAMS chip. Didn't have time to investigate whether or not Jesse's genes were mutating out of control, or even if there was something going on in Jesse's life making it _seem _like there was a genetic disorder.

_Didn't care_.

They needed someone to monitor the computers for their missions, and now they'd found someone better at it than Jesse. Someone that Jesse couldn't compete with because Kenny had an unbeatable advantage and who even _wanted_ to spend the rest of his days sitting in front of a video screen. Sure, Jesse could phase, but when you got right down to it, how useful was that? Brennan threw lightning bolts—lethal at a distance. Emma threw psychic whammy's—lethal at a distance. Shalimar could take down any three men and still have time for tea and crumpets—lethal at _any_ distance. But Jesse? Well, he could get them through locked doors. But so could any skeleton key. _Great.__ I'm about as useful as a small hunk of metal. Pretty humbling, when you think about it._

Jesse's room had suddenly become very small. No windows. Door closed. Computer no longer a friend but an enemy, now allied with another mutant, a computer mutant who wanted Jesse's place on the team. Jesse felt the need to get out of his room, for a glass of water if nothing else. He went to the door and turned the knob.

_Locked_.

Locked. As in, _don't come out_. As in, _we can't cope with you_. As in, _we don't want you here_. Jesse's heart sank. They couldn't keep him in his room—no one could do that; his mutation was useful for _something_—but they could make their feelings obvious. And they just had.

His room really was too small. In fact, all of Sanctuary had become too small. Jesse needed to get out. Exhaling, he phased to insubstantial and eased himself out through the wall of his room into the corridor. He made his way past where the others were working, careful not to be seen. They would think that he was still in his room where Adam had sent him like a kid being punished. That worked for him: Jesse needed out.

He paused by the computer console on the way out. It was the same one that he'd been working on when trying to push through Adam's computer program in a hurry to make up for lost time. It was the computer containing the hard drive with all of Adam's data, the data that had been lost when the program crashed. At the time, they had thought that Jesse had programmed it incorrectly.

But there was a small smudge on the outer casing of the computer tower, a smudge that came away on his finger when Jesse bent to examine the mark. The smudge was soot.

It was the mark of an electrical jolt that had fried the innards of the computer. It was the mark of an elemental who had apparently deliberately crashed the program.

And Shalimar had told him _east_, not west.

And even Emma had belted him one for thoughts he hadn't even had. It all started to make sense. They were all telling him the same thing.

Jesse tightened his lips. He got the message._Time to leave_.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Cute kid," Brennan commented, eying the picture on the computer monitor.

Shalimar leaned on his shoulder, allowing her weight to drag companionably on the elemental. "That's what you said when we rescued her the first time. She wasn't interested in you then; what makes you think she's changed her mind?"

Brennan started to speak, but Emma interrupted. "It's because Jesse won't be there this time," she laughed. "Face it, Brennan, you've got competition."

"Hah." Brennan leaned away from the monitor. "He's welcome to her. Jailbait all the way."

"Jailbait!" Shalimar mocked. "A lovely like her? Looks twenty-one or older?"

"She may look twenty-one, but she's got the mind of an adolescent," Emma reminded them. "Lots of girls are growing up too fast these days. And being a mutant makes you grow up even faster."

"Got that right, girl." Both Shalimar and Emma knew that for a fact. "Finding any trace of her, Brennan?"

"Nope." It was frustrating for the elemental. If Jesse had been there, they knew, there would have been three search programs multi-tasking and cross-referencing for any hint. Instead, all they could pull up was the database that had been started on the girl when Adam first learned of her existence a short time ago.

_Denise Vetchner, mutant_. And that was almost all there was on her. Parents deceased in a car accident a couple of years ago, and the notes that Adam had tucked to the side suggested that the accident may not have been all that accidental. There was nothing additional one way or the other, but still…

Denise was tall with gawky limbs and a tiny waist that spoke of a girl with glamorous aspirations toward modeling. That fit; Shalimar had had a talk with her about proper nutrition when they met, and Denise had promised to mend her ways, the feral her new role model. But Denise was a child in a woman's body, eager to experience life before she was ready and convinced that her mutant ability, whatever it was, ought to give it to her. Mutant X had snatched her out from under the noses of Genomex and whisked her away, and if the safe house wherethey stayed wasn't a palace, it was still tremendously romantic and thrilling to a girl high on life. They hid there for three days before venturing forth, taking turns at look out. Brennan, Shalimar, and Emma had volunteered to lead the baddies away while Jesse took Denise to the rendezvous point for her new life with her new foster parents.

Psionic, the database labeled her, based on her gene structure. And there the information stopped. In the safe house, at Adam's behest, Emma had tested the girl to the extent of her abilities and had come away shaking her head. If the girl was psionic, then it wasn't anything that Emma could find. It happened that way sometimes, that the mutant genes were recessive and caused no difference from the rest of the 'normal' human population. If Denise were to have a child with another psionic, it might be a different story for the baby but as for Denise herself? Emma couldn't bear to hurt the girl, and gently suggested that some power or other 'might appear later in life'. Denise, of course, heard that 'immense psychic abilities would manifest themselves any day now'. She could scarcely wait.

And nowDenise was missing. Where could she have gotten to? And how would Jesse be moving forward in the search if he were allowed out of his room to get at the mainframe?

"No, Brennan," Emma said.

"But—"

"No. Adam said to leave him alone right now."

"No, Adam said not to involve Jesse in the search. He didn't say anything about asking Jesse how to use the search programs that _he_ devised," Brennan pointed out reasonably.

"I don't think that's what he meant—"

"But it's not what he said," Brennan replied triumphantly. "Look, we haven't got the faintest clue on where to start, right? I mean, Denise has no favorite hang outs in this area, she hasn't been around long enough to make friends—according to Adam, she never even met her foster parents."

"Maybe she's heading back to her old home?" Shalimar guessed.

"Not likely." Brennan spoke like someone who had had to run away from too many homes himself. "That's where Genomex tried to snatch her. She's not stupid; she'll stay away from there as far as she can. No, we have to look some place else. Some place where she thinks she's wanted."

"She's wanted here," Emma pointed out. "We want her."

"No, we don't." Brennan wagged his finger at the empath. "Remember, we're the ones who insisted that she go to some foster parents that she'd never met before. She wanted to stay here, in Sanctuary, with us. Remember?"

"She clung to Jesse," Shalimar acknowledged. "It was part of the reason that we decided that Jesse should take her to the Dunn's. She was listening to him, as much as any teen-ager would listen to any adult. They connected."

"But Adam said to leave Jesse out of the search," Emma reminded them.

"And so we will," Brennan replied. "I won't ask him about the search for Denise. I will ask him _how_ to do a search. All the programs he's created, what to do." Grinning triumphantly, Brennan got up from the chair in front of the console and used his long legs to head for the bedrooms in Sanctuary.

Emma and Shalimar looked doubtfully at each other.

"You gonna tell?"

"Not me. You?"

"Are you kidding?"

"What's Adam going to say when he realizes that we've been using Jesse's programs?"

"Not gonna tell him that, either. You?"

"Not a chance—"

Brennan poked his head back in. "Jesse's door is locked, and he's either sleeping or so pissed at all of us that he's not answering." He held out his hand. "Bobby pin."

The two girls looked at each other.

"Brennan, neither of us uses bobby pins."

"What are you talking about? Of course you use bobby pins. The hero of the story, in order to break into the locked vault, uses a bobby pin that some lovely young female side-kick has been helpfully wearing throughout the entire movie so that the hero can come to the rescue of whoever needs rescuing."

"Brennan," Emma repeated, "we don't use bobby pins and we are not female side-kicks and Jesse most definitely does not need rescuing. And what do you mean, Jesse's door is locked? He never locks his door."

"Well, it's locked now and I don't have the key. And either Jesse did it, or one of us. Or Adam."

"Not Adam." Shalimar was certain. "He would tell Jesse to stay in his room, but he knows that Jesse could simply phase out any time that he wanted. Locking the door would be silly for a molecular like Jesse." She got up out of her own chair. "Let's go. I think I want to talk to Jesse. This whole thing isn't like him." She stopped suddenly. "Guys, this _really_ isn't like Jesse. Can you truly imagine him not turning over a sixteen year old to her foster parents? And then _lying_ about it to us?"

"Now that you mention it, no." Brennan too gained a frown. "And frankly, he's not that good a liar; I can beat him every time at poker. But he told us with a straight face that the mission to drop off Denise went forward without a hitch. I would have folded with a full house for that face."

"You're right," Emma said, putting in her own thoughts. "I was there when he got back. He was _not_ lying. Why would I now think that he was? Guys, there is something odd going on here."

"Which brings us back to where we started." Brennan held out his hand. "Bobby pin?"


	4. Desires and Deceptions 4

Jesse ambled along the street, window-shopping and not interested in anything the vendors were offering. He felt at a loss; for the first time in years, he had no goal. Nothing to do, nothing to strive for, nothing to pursue. Nothing. Gone. All gone. Wiped out in the space of an overheard conversation. The home that he thought he had made for himself at Sanctuary had turned out to be a sham. They didn't want him there. That had been made plain.

He looked down at the simple gold ring on his finger. They could track him with that; he should get rid of it. No, that would be expecting too much from his former teammates. They wanted him gone; Mutant X wouldn't go to the trouble of finding him again. Not even to re-acquire one slightly used gold ring filled with high tech electronics.

But it might come alive at an awkward moment. Jesse could fix that: he turned off the communications part of the link. There; a simple twist and the ring turned into a plain gold band on his right hand. He again debated throwing it away, and decided not to. If needed, he could switch it to his left so that he wouldn't be pestered; make it look as though he were attached and unavailable.

Now, why should that thought come to mind? Jesse _was_ unattached; he wanted to be pestered. He wanted to meet new people, start a new life for himself. He _was_ available.

Maybe tomorrow. For today, for the rest of the day, Jesse walked. Something drew him along, some little nudge that persuaded him that _this_ was the direction to take and not _that_. He really didn't have anything better to do. He gave in. _Like it mattered_.

Dusk. The streetlights were coming alive, filling in the spaces between the shadows. The dirt and grime along the roadways melted into the darkness, less noticeable, not that he had been noticing it anyway. His feet seemed to have a mind of their own, leading him to—where?

As if it made a difference in anything, to anyone. Sanctuary was gone from him; the rest of Mutant X didn't want him there. Jesse Kilmartin could go anywhere, do anything, and there was no one to say _good job, Jesse_. No one to care.

What to do, what to do? He supposed he'd have to find some sort of work, something where he could earn a living and not stand out from the crowd. _Not particularly sensible, the look-at-me attitude, when Genomex is on the prowl._ No, something quick and unassuming would be most sensible, perhaps even something that didn't require documentation and the filling out of a multitude of papers. Genomex had their claws into every database, it seemed. Jesse may not have known what he wanted out of life at the present time, but ending up in a pod certainly wasn't the best of futures.

His feet turned him into a small bar, the steps leading down to a dingy smoke-filled room beneath the street level. There was noise in the background that pretended to be music but Jesse, having been raised on something a little more coherent, wasn't about to dignify the sound with the title. Glasses clinked as beer suds foamed over onto a dark bar top to be wiped into a stained and wet rag. Three or four disinterested faces looked up briefly at him and then returned to the far more intriguing perusal of what was in their mug.

All except for one face, a face which didn't belong in an establishment of this type. The face belonged to someone longing to be a super-model, someone with long brown hair that normally danced around her shoulders, someone with big brown eyes that right now looked more than a little scared. Long legs stuck out of artfully torn shorts to tantalize and tease the men who were bellied up to the bar. The effect had been originally intentional, and was now regretted.

Denise Vetchner was _scared_.

Jesse recognized her immediately, and wasted no time in hustling to her side. "Denise, what are you doing here?" He looked around; more than one man in the bar had been considering making a move on the young girl and was disappointed that someone she knew had shown up. _Snooze, you lose, guys. I'm getting her out of here_. "And how did you get past the front door? You're underage."

"I get in all the time. Nobody cards me." Denise was telling the truth. With the swagger of an older woman—someone at least in her twenties—Denise had little trouble in getting past the doormen, most of whom were too busy looking at her assets to look at her ID. "Jesse, I'm scared. Some of the Genomex guys were after me."

"That would scare me, too." And did. It meant that somewhere nearby was a team of Genomex's finest, looking for a young girl. And if a member of Mutant X happened to be nearby? Icing on the cake.

No, wait. Jesse Kilmartin no longer belonged to Mutant X. The others had made that very plain.

Big deal. Genomex didn't know that. And would still be just as happy with a two for one sale on mutants. "What say we get out of here and some place a little safer?" Jesse suggested.

Denise nodded, taking hold of his arm as though letting go wasn't going to happen any time during the entire next millennium.

But some of the men in the bar had other ideas. They had other plans. One planted himself in front of the exit. The second planted himself in front of Jesse and Denise. "Just where are you taking the little lady?"

Jesse pushed Denise behind him. This looked like it was about to get ugly. "We're leaving."

"I can see that. I just don't like it."

"Sorry to hear that." Jesse was mentally tallying up the number of possible opponents. There was Big and Ugly in front of him, and Bigger and Uglier by the door. Would the others get involved? There were three more watching the scene play out with more than a little interest. "But it doesn't make any difference. You can get out of our way or we can walk over you."

"Oh, you can, can you?" Big and Ugly sneered. "You hear that, boys?" He flexed a bicep that a circus strong man would be proud to own. "Little boy toy here thinks he gonna take her outta here."

"Jesse?" Denise was beyond scared and working on terrified.

"Just stay behind me." Jesse didn't move his attention from the man in front of him, or the one by the door. "Look, we don't want any trouble here. Just let us past."

"Don't want any trouble, he says," Big and Ugly snorted. "Sonny, you bought yourself the trouble when you walked in here." He looked away, and when he looked back it was along with a ham-like fist aimed straight at Jesse's face.

Jesse was expecting it. Big and Ugly was big, ugly, and predictable. The punch was telegraphed from the moment he looked back at his buddy by the door. After routinely sparring with the likes of Shalimar and Brennan, it felt like his opponent was fighting in slow motion. Jesse threw up a block, mentally turning his arm to stone as he did so.

Big and Ugly likewise expected the block. What he didn't expect was the consistency of the block. He had expected to power through the block and ram his fist into Jesse's face. He had expected to loosen several of Jesse's teeth without benefit of anesthesia.

Life is full of little disappointments.

Jesse's expectations were more realistic. He expected the man's fist to crush itself into paste against the diamond-hard surface that his arm had become, and he was gratified to see that he hadn't lost his touch. The man's howl of pain had a few more decibels than Jesse was used to, but since Big and Ugly hadn't trained under the exacting standards of Mason Eckhart's School for Nasty Guys in Dark Suits Jesse was more than willing to forgive the transgression. In order to reduce the noise level, however, Jesse quickly helped the man down to the floor with a light tap from that densely massed arm. Actually, Jesse wanted to be ready for Bigger and Uglier coming in from the doorway without fear of interruption, but both reasons were pertinent.

Bigger and Uglier came on more cautiously. Having seen his buddy go down swiftly with just two blows from someone who looked significantly less than threatening, Bigger and Uglier was determined to prove that a) he was smarter than his buddy and b) he could avenge the humiliation as well as collect bragging rights for the next round of beer.

'A' was accomplished. Instead of going down in two blows, Bigger and Uglier managed to last three with a head butt. 'B' was never gonna happen.

The remaining three at the bar came to the conclusion that one on one were no longer acceptable odds. Three on one were now the house rules. They advanced.

"Out!" Jesse ordered Denise, backing up. "Get out now!"

"Jesse, look out!" Denise screamed.

Phasing was a two way street for the molecular. Instead of going solid, Jesse phased to insubstantial. The man who had sneaked up behind, picked up a chair, and swung it at Jesse's back found himself taking out all three of the remaining combatants instead of his prey. A quick shove with his foot, the chair-wielding man fell onto his rump, and Jesse escorted Denise out of the bar at top speed.

"C'mon!" The three men in dark suits down the street under the light may or may not have belonged to Genomex, but Jesse wasn't taking any chances. Genomex people had an uncanny way of showing up when least expected or wanted, and Jesse truly didn't want to have to deal with any more trouble right now. He grabbed Denise's arm and hustled her away through the back alleys.

"Where are we going?" she squeaked. If this had been fantasy, her voice would have been low and whiskey-touched. Instead, it came out like what it was: a terrified child.

"I'm not sure." Jesse looked swiftly around. Oops, the trio _was_ from Genomex. There was no other reason that they would have entered this dark alley lined with trash, garbage, and rats. Time to beat a hasty retreat.

_Damn. No exit_. At least, no exit for the ordinary, every day, normal human. Jesse created his own. Exhaling, he phased the brick wall and pushed Denise through.

The wall snapped back to reality.

Admiration of the molecular's quick thinking would have to wait for a calmer moment. Jesse led Denise through the warehouse to the back of the building, dodging the multitude of shelves and boxes, and created their own personalized exit out the back wall, doors not included. From there it was an easy hop, skip, and a jump to three streets over where, Jesse hoped, the Genomex goons wouldn't be able to find them.

Hero worship lit up sixteen year old brown eyes, and Denise flung herself at her savior.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?" Adam glared at the trio as if they were responsible for the bad news.

"Gone, as in not there," Brennan clarified. "Gone, as in vamoosed. Vanished. Elvis has left the building, and so has Jesse."

"I told him to stay in his room," Adam grumbled. "Wait till I get my hands on him. He shouldn't have left, not at a time like this."

"Adam, why did you lock the door to his room?" Emma wanted to know.

Adam gave her a puzzled stare. "Why would I do that? That would have to be the most ridiculous thing anyone could do. He's a molecular."

"Well, someone did." He couldn't find a bobby pin, so Brennan had grabbed a stray piece of wire to pick the lock to Jesse's room. Which is how they discovered that the fourth member of their team missing. He held up the thoroughly bent pseudo-key. "Someone locked the door to Jesse's room. And, Adam, it was locked from the outside. Jesse didn't do it. Not unless he did it on his way out, which wouldn't make sense, either."

"And he's not answering his comm. link," Shalimar added. "Adam, I'm worried."

"Did you try to track him?"

Emma nodded. "There's no signal. Either he's removed his ring or he's gone underground, some place where the signal won't penetrate."

A lesser man would have cursed. Adam merely pursed his lips, thinking. "We really don't need this right now. First Denise Vetchner, and now Jesse."

"You think there's a connection?"

"I don't see how." Adam began to pace. "Denise is a child with no powers whatsoever, despite her mutant heritage. You tested her yourself, Emma, and found nothing."

"That's right."

"The only connection between the two is that they're both missing right now. There's no reason to think that they planned this together. Is there?" Adam turned back to Mutant X.

Brennan shook his head. "He thought she was a cute kid, but nothing more than that. She's not Jesse's type, Adam, despite what Denise hoped."

"I can verify that, Adam," Emma agreed. "There was nothing in Jesse's mind to suggest that Jesse cared for the girl any more then a generalized affection for a fellow mutant. Denise had a crush on him; that's all. Harmless adolescent stuff."

More pacing. "I don't like this," Adam said finally. "The more I think about this, the stranger it becomes, and not just on Jesse's part. Guys, we've all been acting oddly. I mean, I haven't told Jesse to go to his room since he was a young teen-ager. And for all my data to crash and vanish from the computer hard drive isn't like Jesse. His technique is too good for that. Frankly, it sounds more like that time that the generators acted up and sent a massive electrical surge through all of Sanctuary. It wasn't just the computers that fried that time, if you recall, Shalimar."

The feral nodded. "Before your time, Emma, Brennan." She cocked her head. "I have to be honest, guys: I wouldn't want to swear in a court of law that I asked Jesse to search down that Shadling character. I mean, I was certain yesterday but now I'm not so sure."

Emma had her input. "And yesterday morning; I'm used to deflecting other people's thoughts. I don't know why I went off on Jesse." She colored. "It was actually more of a compliment." She bit her lip. "No wonder Jesse left. He probably thinks that we don't care about him any more."

"Not possible," Shalimar protested. "We've been through too much together! How could he possibly think that?"

Adam cut off the discussion. "No matter what the cause, bottom line is that Jesse has left Sanctuary and is unreachable. Maybe he'll come back, or maybe we'll have to go searching for him. But he's a grown man, trained in the use of his powers. Denise Vetchner is not, and Genomex is after her. Let's locate her and get her to safety, and then we'll find Jesse and set things right." He sat back. "What have you got? It sounds like nothing right now."

"Got it in one," Brennan admitted. "Man, what I wouldn't give to have Jesse at the computers right now, giving us a clue to go on. We need him."

"But we haven't got him," Adam reminded him. "I'll see what I can do. I'm no slouch, either, even though they're Jesse's search programs."

"Hey, what about your friend Kenny, Brennan?" Shalimar lit up. "Adam, he's a computer mutant. The way he tracked down that other lead, that Shadling guy, finding people is one of his specialties. Why don't we go to him?"

"He owes us, Adam," Brennan added. "I'll bet he'd help in a heart beat."

But Adam frowned. "We haven't checked him out, yet. And I haven't said yes to putting him on the team."

"What better way to test his abilities?" Brennan suggested. "We invite him here, have him do his thing, and then you have some first hand data to work with."

"Brennan, I am not bringing an unknown mutant to Sanctuary. It's too dangerous."

"He's not unknown," Brennan argued. "I've known him for years."

"Yes, and by your own admission haven't seen him for the last four."

"We bring other unknowns here," Shalimar put in. "Adam, we can use the optic paralyzer to make certain that he doesn't know where Sanctuary is. We've done it before with other strange mutants."

Adam looked from one to the other, and then appealed to Emma. "You worked with him, Emma. What's your sense of him?"

Emma shrugged. "He's a computer mutant, almost the opposite end of the spectrum from psionics. I have a tough time 'reading' him. But I haven't sensed anything bad about him. Everything I get says that he's just another mutant trying to make it in a world that doesn't like mutants." She shrugged again. "I won't say no."

Adam lifted his shoulders. "Okay, guys, bring him in. But keep an eye on him. A young girl's life is at stake."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_This is _so_ not good_.

Jesse woke up to find that sometime during the night, Denise had crawled into his arms and slept there, comforted by his warmth and closeness. Jesse decided on the spot to be grateful that neither one of them had elected to remove any clothing before turning in. _Good thing it's cold out at night. If this were summer, I'd be up a creek without a paddle…_

Dawn was hoisting itself out of bed, and clouds were heavy in the air, just barely visible through the dirt-spattered windows of the abandoned warehouse that Jesse had found for them late last night. He hadn't dared check them into a legitimate place for the night; his wallet was tapped out of green stuff, and the only source of funds would be a credit card and wouldn't their friends at Genomex be all over that some thirty seconds later? No, better to spend the night some place invisible to the bureaucratic eye. A little dirt never hurt anyone, even a sixteen year old with past delusions of a modeling career.

No, Denise's delusions now included a career with Mutant X, Jesse Kilmartin included. Never mind that she was still an under-age teen-ager. Never mind that her psionic powers hadn't yet manifested themselves. According to the Gospel of Emma as related by the prophet Denise herself, Denise's powers would arrive with the appropriate fireworks and meteor showers sometime within the next week, a month if Denise was slow to mature. Jesse found himself wishing that the empath had been a bit more blunt with the kid about her so-called gift. Not that he blamed Emma, but it would have made his current life a bit easier. _Sorry, Denise, but a short and catastrophic life battling the forces of Evil is probably not in your future.._

And never mind that Jesse himself was no longer a part of Mutant X. He felt a sudden pang at that thought, a sharp ache running through his heart that was almost physical in its intensity. The others had made _that_ perfectly clear: they didn't want him.

Best to move on. He'd wait until they were up—not one of them cheerfully got up in the morning, and this cloudy day would only exacerbate that—and let them know where they could come and get Denise for delivery to her foster parents. Then, obligations met, Jesse could head to—where? Jesse found that he didn't have a clue of what he would do. Beyond the obvious, of course. Genomex was still out there. Maybe the Underground? The thought didn't thrill him. The Underground was still too close to Adam and Mutant X. He sighed. He'd think of something. Eventually.

He started to slide out from underneath the girl when she stirred. Jesse froze, hoping that she'd fall back asleep. No luck; big brown eyes opened lazily, followed by a beckoning smile that would toast the icicles off Mason Eckhart.

_Kid doesn't even really know what she's doing. She's just aping what she sees on the tube. Never mind that she's tantalizing a healthy male in the prime of life. Damn, but she's hot!_

_She's jailbait, Kilmartin. She doesn't know what she's doing. She's trusting you to keep control for both of you, even if she doesn't realize it._

_Great.__ Lovely compliment. Down, boy!_

Jesse determinedly pulled his arm out from under, not stopping even at her half-awake murmur of protest. "Time to rise and shine," he told her. "New day, and all of that."

Denise burrowed back into the meager excuse for blankets with a noise that meant _are you out of your freakin' skull? Does anyone even remotely human get up before __noon__ if they don't have to?_

"Yes," Jesse told the buried lump, "you do. Like it or not, Genomex is a 24/7 operation, and you can bet that they're still after us and probably closing in. We have to move, get you some place safe."

"Sanctuary?" The word was muffled by bedcovers, but Jesse understood it all too well. _Another chest pang there, Kilmartin_.

He ignored it. "The very place. I'll find you something to eat, and then contact the guys at Sanctuary. We'll have you safe in no time." _They going to listen to you, Kilmartin, when you call in? After everything that's happened?_

First things first: check out the area for signs of enemy activity, then obtain food for the growing girl he had taken responsibility for. After the lecture that Shalimar had delivered to the girl when they'd picked Denise up, Jesse had damn well better make sure that she ate properly.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Whoa! Way cool!" was the most printable of the things that Kenny Dickerson said upon arrival to Sanctuary after the optic paralyzer was removed. The rest of his verbiage was peppered with comments that would earn him an honorary membership in the Scatological Society but also indicated that the computer mutant was favorably impressed by the technological wizardry laid out before him. "And I get to play in this playground?"

"Well, not play, exactly," Brennan grinned, setting the optic paralyzer on the countertop. Behind him, Shalimar and Emma leaned back, at ease in Sanctuary, watching the computer mutant take in his surroundings. "Theoretically this is work. Think you can handle it, bro?"

"With my eyes closed," Kenny assured him. His head kept moving in circles, body following slowly behind, wanting to take in more and more of the computer lair, not knowing where to stop and focus. A kid in a candy store couldn't have been more pleased. "You want me to track down Jesse Kilmartin and a kid named Denise Vetchner, right?"

"That's right." Adam entered the computer room. "Hi, I'm Adam Kane. You must be Kenny Dickerson."

"Dr. Kane," Kenny greeted him, sticking out a hand.

"Adam," Adam corrected. "Nice to finally meet you. I've already met your gene structure. It's impressive."

Kenny blinked. "Uh, thanks." He gestured at the banks of computer firepower. "You built all of this?"

"Over the years," Adam nodded. "I've had a lot of help along the way. You like it?"

"Like it?" Kenny breathed. "Dr. K., this is like a wet dream come true! This rivals anything I saw at the Pentagon—"

"You hacked into the DoD's computers?" Shalimar sat up and took notice.

"Of course. Hey, if a twelve year old kid could hack in…" Kenny left the statement hanging, then grinned, white teeth showing. "I had to keep up the reputation of mutants everywhere. Would have made a tidy little bundle off of what I found in there except for two things."

"What two things?"

"One: I didn't know how to contact the right buyers and two: I didn't know how to keep the good guys from killing me once they learned what I'd done."

"You mean the bad guys."

"No, I mean the _good_ guys." Kenny grinned again. "The stuff I found was _very_ intriguing. They would have had my ass in a sling inside of twenty four hours if they'd known what I'd done. Let's just say that I got _way_ further inside than that twelve year old." Then he turned all business. "Denise Vetchner, right? Sixteen year old, psionic? What'cha got?"

"Not much." Adam fired up the computer console. "I can give you her appearance—" and a picture appeared on the screen.

"That's sixteen years old?" Kenny whistled. "Could'a fooled me."

"Believe me, she's only sixteen," Adam said wryly. "She may not look it, but she acts it. Impulsive, head-strong—"

"Flirting with anything and everything in pants," Shalimar put in.

Adam winced. "I wouldn't put it so baldly—"

"I would," Shalimar assured him. "She's a kid with her hormones on high. Believe me when I say _been there, done that_. I wouldn't go back to that part of my life for the world." She snuck Adam a sideways look with a crooked grin attached. Surprisingly, he colored.

"She's just a kid, and she's all alone," Emma put in firmly. "Which means that we have to find her." The psionic corrected herself: "_You_ have to find her, Kenny. We're coming up blank."

"Then I'll get right to it," the computer told her, then paused, doubt tingeing his posture. "Uh, this may be a bit more difficult than usual. Minors tend to be a little morechallenging to track down through cyber-space. They don't have access to as many credit cards and contracts as adults. You install the CAMS chip yet? That'll help speed up the search."

"Put it in last night," Adam told him. "Works even better than advertised."

"Just do your best, Kenny," Brennan said. "Right now, you're our best hope." He smirked. "Remember how good you keep telling me you are? Now's your chance to prove it, bro."


	5. Desires and Deceptions 5

"It's dark, Jesse." Denise's voice shivered.

"I know," Jesse whispered back. "Keep your voice down." He tucked her closer to him, enfolding the girl in his arms in a mute appeal for quiet. They listened for the trio seeking to capture them, almost holding their breath, Denise trying not to give in to panic. She shivered in Jesse's arms.

Footsteps echoed outside. A deep voice rumbled, a voice filled with determination. "They're close. I can _feel_ them."

"Yeah? Where?"

"I'm a feral, not a magician. Look around, genius."

"Not my job. I've got the neural governors in my pocket. That's my part in this little jaunt." Jesse and Denise heard the man slap his pocket. Something rattled. "They're not here."

"Oh, they're here all right," the feral laughed nastily. "Won't take me too long to find them."

"Yeah? It already has." The footsteps moved off.

Jesse released Denise, putting his mouth close to her ear. "Follow me. And don't make a sound."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kenny squeezed himself out of the computer console, his body taking shape like a hologram out take onto the floor of Sanctuary. The others crowded around him, barely giving him enough room to re-materialize. Shalimar took hold of Brennan's arm, seeking tactile comfort.

"Well?" Brennan demanded.

Kenny grimaced, shaking the kinks out of his shoulders. "Gonna take a while, Bren. Like I said, kids don't leave too many traces in cyber-space."

"You can't find Denise?" Adam asked, disappointed.

"Didn't say that, boss," Kenny corrected. "Just that it's gonna take some time. I stopped back for an update and a cup of coffee. Computers are great, but the one thing they can't do is create a decent cup of caffeine in cyber-space. Stuff always comes out tasting like thermal interface."

Brennan started to ask what thermal interface tasted like, and thought better of it. "No Denise? No Jesse?"

"Neither one." Kenny gratefully accepted the mug that Emma pushed on him. "What happened to ol' Stonewall himself? He get himself captured by Genomex? Need a rescue?"

"No, nothing like that," Adam said. "At least, I hope not. No, this time he walked out on his own two feet. A misunderstanding, I think. We'd like to work it out."

"Bottom line, he's not here and not expected back any time soon. Too bad." Kenny sipped at the coffee, then set it down. "Let me get back to work." He paused. "You guys might not want to stick around here. Like I said, this is gonna take a while. It's gonna get boring just standing here, waiting for me to show my ugly mug again. We may be talking hours, here, guys. Later, dudes." With that, his form wavered into holographic flexibility, and slid into the Sanctuary mainframe via the nearest USB port.

"Adam?" Emma looked up. "Hours?"

"He knows his business, Adam," Brennan added. "Maybe we want to be productive somewhere else?"

But Adam shook his head. "I'm not comfortable leaving him here all alone, Brennan. I know he's a friend of yours, but I haven't had the opportunity to check him out myself yet. I want someone here at all times for when he comes back out of the computer system."

"We can take shifts," Shalimar suggested. She wrinkled her nose. "I volunteer to be first and get it over with."

"Thanks, but no," Adam replied. "No, I want you and Emma out looking for Denise and Jesse in the real world. Brennan, you take the first couple of hours. Go get a magazine or something. I'll relieve you at two."

"Plan," Brennan agreed. "See you later."

"We'll call in if there's anything to report," Emma said.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Jesse!" Denise screamed.

Okay, so it was a lucky blow. If pushed, Jesse later would swear that he landed it because of training so frequently with Shalimar Fox, that luck had nothing to with it; pure skill, all the way. End result: the feral went flying back against the brick wall of the alleyway and crunched. He slid down the wall, momentarily stunned.

Jesse spent no time contemplating his luck. Swiftly exhaling, he grabbed Denise by the arm and shoved her through the other side of the walled in alleyway through the quickly de-substantialized surface into a machine shop. Jesse ignored the heavy machinery, dragging Denise after him, heedless of her squeals of dismay. "C'mon," he urged. "Move!"

They dashed around the equipment, Denise scraping skin off a large sawblade-like contraption. _Damn! Broke a nail!_ ran irreverently through Jesse's mind, and then he squelched the uncharitable thoughts at the tears that threatened to spill down the kid's face. _Not her fault that she's a mutant. Not her fault that she's stuck here with me, being pursued by Genomex with the sole intent of turning us both into experimental popsicles._

They burst out through the back wall and into bright sunlight. But not for long; Jesse steered them into a large department store, darting through the crowds of people. It was mostly women, intent on dismembering the lingerie rack in honor of the one day half price sale going on. They dashed on past the panti-hose and brushed by the silk lounging pajamas that had Denise's tongue hanging out and drooling.

Right now Jesse didn't care about why, he just cared about who. Feral: tracks by movement and smell. Okay, cover the movement by the massive crowd of jostling women who are all hopefully wearing as much perfume as possible and jockeying for position around the items for sale. But, just in case…Jesse deliberately knocked the arm of a young salesgirl as they dashed by, causing her to spill several samples of the stinking stuff. The cry of 'oh, no!' followed them out the side entrance of the store along with a whiff of Eau de Whatever.

_Scratch one feral sense of smell_.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Brennan idly toyed with the magazine in his hands. Bored. Bored out of his skull. Nothing to look at, nothing to watch. He didn't dare touch the computer in case Kenny needed to exit and re-materialize on the floor next to him, and he'd already run through all the kata he could manage in the small room. Sometimes having long legs was not a good thing. And he was on the third re-reading of the 'zine, which wasn't any better this go around than the last.

A squelch-y, pulling noise grabbed his attention. Brennan leaped to his feet to see Kenny squirm out of the USB port and re-materialize. The computer mutant staggered, catching himself against the console. "Whoa."

"Kenny?" Brennan grabbed the man before he could fall, forcing him into a chair. "Kenny, what's going on, dude? What's wrong? What did you find?"

Kenny exhaled. "I think I've been around the world at least twice in the last hour, man. Bunch of spy-catchers that were a bitch to avoid."

"But you got something?"

"Maybe." Kenny eluded the question, allowing Brennan to hover over him. He reached down to scratch an itch on his leg. "Where is everyone?"

"The girls are out doing legwork on the street. Adam's in his lab. What did you find out?"

"Just you and Adam here in Sanctuary?"

"That's right. He's—"

"Call Adam down here," Kenny ordered. "I want you both to hear this right now."

Brennan obediently tapped on the internal comm. link and summoned the older man to the computer room. He turned back around to face Kenny only to find the computer mutant almost in his face. "Okay, bro, Adam's on his way—what's that?"

Kenny rammed his hand into Brennan's gut. He also rammed the _knife_ in his hand into Brennan's gut. "That," Kenny said with a certain satisfaction, "is a knife." The computer mutant slid his pant leg back down over the blade sheath that he had strapped to his calf. "I wasn't sure I could get this into Sanctuary, but your running interference for me smoothed the way. Thanks, _brother_." He twisted the blade, widening the slice in Brennan's torso, making certain that his former partner felt every centimeter of steel cutting through him, his smile widening at the shock on Brennan's face.

Damn. How did he get to his knees? Brennan didn't remember bending them. But the agony between his ribs did a fine job of removing his ability to string two thoughts together, let alone coherent verbiage. "Wh-why?" he gasped. His hand came away, covered in blood. _Lots of blood_.

"Why?" Kenny mocked. "I told you, Brennan. I've gone legit. I'm an incorporated business, with contracts and everything. My latest contract was to kidnap Adam Kane for some interested parties. Getting him out of Sanctuary is almost impossible, so they turned to me. And you fell for it; hook, line, and sinker."

"Ke—" Brennan couldn't go on. The edges of his vision wavered. Damn, was he on the floor already?

"Ah. Now you're asking, how do I expect to get old Adam out of here? Simple, and you helped out there as well." Kenny gestured to the mainframe computer of Sanctuary. "The CAMS chip. _My_ design, not Merriwell's. That guy was just an actor that I hired to play the part, and you and the rest of Mutant X bought it without so much as a whimper. Thanks, bro. I really appreciate the help. The CAMS chip will enable me to turn your old boss into a bunch of computerized electrons, just like me. One little jaunt across the Internet to another CAMS chip that I installed at home for just this occasion, and I will have one extremely brilliant yet trustingly foolish scientist for sale. Dr. Kane will never know what hit him." Kenny leaned over the dying man on the floor, noting the blood that was spilling out. "I'd better hurry if I want you to appreciate just how much assistance you've given me. You look like you're going under fast. Gee, and here I thought that you'd last at least ten minutes or so before bleeding your life onto the floor. There are only two people in Sanctuary who could have stopped me: you with your electrical powers and Jesse Kilmartin's knowledge of computers. And Jesse is _so_ conveniently out of the way. That just leaves you, bro. Well, maybe not any more."

Brennan tried to say something, tried to call out. Adam was on his way down here to disaster! But Brennan's voice had decided to stop working. He only wished that that the nerves carrying the messages of pain to his brain would do the same thing. _Adam…_

Adam Kane strode down the corridor, ready for action. If Brennan had called, then Kenny must be back with news. They would need to put a plan into place at once, depending on what the computer mutant had found. Was it Jesse that he'd found, or Denise, or both? Adam couldn't help but wish for the whole pie. He hustled into the computer room.

Kenny looked up, dismay on his face. "Adam! Thank God you're here! Brennan needs help!"

A horrifying sight greeted the older man: Brennan, lying on the floor in a pool of blood, eyes mutely begging for help, gasping for fleeting breath. What had happened here? Who had attacked Brennan in the safety of Sanctuary? Who could have gotten in past the security?

Adam dropped to his knees; the hemorrhaging needed to be stopped _now_! "Kenny, what—?"

"So glad you asked." The dismayed expression had dissolved into one of triumph. Kenny seized Adam by the arm, yanking him back to his feet. "We're going on a little trip, you and I." His form quivered, preparatory to entering the computer, shaking Adam's own molecules in sympathetic vibration. Adam cried out.

There wasn't much that Brennan could see. Shock had narrowed his field of vision to a very small area, one that still included the sight of Kenny and Adam struggling. Jumping to his feet and lashing out at his former friend would have been a welcome thing to do. Wrenching Adam from the computer mutant's grasp would likewise suffice. Unfortunately his body responded with a very painful _are you out of your freakin' mind? We're going into shock, here! _Instead, Brennan had to watch the whole horrifying scene unfold:

Kenny, dragging Adam out of Sanctuary the only way possible.

Adam, going onto the auction block to the highest bidder for that impossibly brilliant brain of his.

Kenny, saying, _'there are only two people in Sanctuary who could have stopped me: you and Jesse Kilmartin. And Jesse is _so_ conveniently out of the way. That just leaves you, bro.' And stabbed him beneath the ribs._

Him? How could Brennan possibly stop Kenny? How could an elemental take down a computer mutant? Unless…

That he himself was a dead man, Brennan never doubted. Knife in the gut, losing blood faster than a spigot on full force? Intellectually, Brennan was amazed that he wasn't dead yet. But how could he stop Kenny?

What was Jesse always grousing about? That Brennan had crashed yet another program just by sheer force of his electric personality?

Time to put that into action. In what Brennan fully expected would be his last performance on the face of this Earth, he summoned up the electrons. Fashioning them into a spear of lightning, he hurled the bolt of electricity directly at the computer that Kenny had just squeezed himself and his captive into.

The computer exploded into a shower of sparks.

Sanctuary went dark.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Here." Shalimar sniffed. Not 'sniffed' as in _gee, what a lovely deodorant you have _but 'sniffed' in the fashion of a true feral on the hunt. "Jesse was here, and so was Denise. What was a sixteen year old doing in a bar? And why would Jesse take her there?"

"He must have had a reason," Emma replied doubtfully. "Find him, and we'll find out what it was. Shall we go in?"

The bar was a little hole in the wall, with little light and less air to breathe. Leftover cigarette smoke stained the ceiling and floors and the only item that the girls had to be grateful for was that the jukebox had apparently died a final death sometime last evening under the onslaught of a flying body and would no longer inflict its pain and suffering—AKA 'music'—on the patrons of the bar.

The bartender had already waddled in for the day, intent on washing the glassware and preparing the place for another night of beer and smoke. Today he had obviously come in early to clean up from last night's mess. Chairs needed replacing, one table would have to be discarded altogether—apparently someone, or someone's, had had a good time.

Shalimar and Emma exchanged looks. Starting a fight in a bar was Brennan's style, not Jesse's, but there was always the possibility that the molecular had made an exception in this case. And if he had a sixteen year old kid to protect, that too would have changed the circumstances. They approached the bartender.

He looked up, his disinterest evaporating in the presence of the two lovelies. "What can I do for you ladies?" And leered.

Shalimar managed not to grimace at the bad breath. She smiled as though she was delighted to be hit upon by this overweight, underwashed slob of a man. She leaned across the bar. "We're looking for someone."

"I can see that," the bartender replied, licking his lips and trying to angle himself just that little bit more to peek down the feral's blouse. "Got just the man for you, doll."

Shalimar restrained the urge to shred the man into little tiny bits of rotting flesh, suspecting that she was getting a psychic boost from her teammate for self-control. "This man." She offered a picture of Jesse, face wide and eyes smiling out at the world. _Happier times, Jess_.

The bartender himself had to exercise self-control to keep from spitting and ruining his image before the two ladies. "Him?" he all but snarled. "That's the guy that ruined my bar last night! You two know him?"

"Not all that well," Emma soothed. Shalimar could tell that she was projecting for all she was worth: calm for the bartender and heavy-duty anti-nausea for herself and Shal. "In fact, we want to find him very much."

"Owes you money? Get in line, lady. Me first." The bartender gave a vicious swipe of his grimy cloth against the equally dirty bar top. "And that goes after I get a piece of his hide. Filthy mutie."

Emma pressed in a bit harder. "When did you see him? We'll bring him back," she lied.

"Last night. He picked up a girl. Hooker, by the looks of her. Probably underage. Only type guy like him can get, got to pay for it. Girl's probably dead by now. He's probably some loony, gets off on killing little girls. Does unspeakable things to their bodies..." He dragged the words out as if unwilling to let them go, savoring their taste in his mouth and begging for more.

"Where did they go?" Emma leaned much harder. The bartender kept dragging himself onto tangents, putting in his own fantasies.

"Don't know. He dragged her outta here after getting beat up by my guys. Little pansy," the bartender groused. "Headed north, I think. Wimp."

"Thanks," Emma oozed oily. The bartender beamed—was this young and dainty thing gonna pursue this any more? He had this little room in the back, could shove the stuff around so that it didn't look so grimy…

"Listen, girly, how 'bout you and me—"

"Maybe another time." Emma detached herself from his grasp, trying not to gag. "See you around." She hustled Shalimar out before the man could throw any more disgusting thoughts in her direction.

Shalimar breathed deeply of the clean air in the sunlight. "I need a shower," she complained.

"And that's just on the outside," Emma agreed. "All those things he said, about Jesse and Denise? I don't ever want to be caught at his mercy. He's just…" She cast around, looking for a word horrible enough.

"North." Shalimar cut off the episode. "If we're lucky, we'll never be back here again." She sniffed again, this time going for the high route, the scents that lingered on the brick walls around them. "I can't be sure, but I think they went this way."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

All it took was a little _twist_, and the comm. link in Jesse's ring came back alive. A specter of light flashed across it, encircling his finger, promising that he still had this one connection to Mutant X left. _Hah_. As if they wanted it that way. They'd probably forgotten to delete his codes after he'd left. Well, that would work to his advantage. Do this one last chore—after all, Jesse needed to be able to look at himself in the mirror every morning—and he could leave Mutant X behind. Jesse steadfastly ignored the pang that raced across his chest at the thought. _They're the ones who wanted it this way. Not me._

Jesse brought the ring up to his mouth. "Adam? Guys?"

No answer.

"Adam? Anybody there?"

Still no answer.

Damn. Maybe they had deleted his codes after all. But if that were so, then why did the ring still activate? It was as if Sanctuary itself wasn't accepting calls, had powered down for the night and then not bothered to flip the switch back on in the morning. Except that it was already almost noon, and Adam at least would be up and about and puttering in his lab. Sure, the others like to sleep in whenever possible and Shalimar was positively nocturnal as only a feral could be, but noon?

There was something wrong.

_What to do, what to do?_ No, he wasn't part of Mutant X any longer, but neither was Jesse Kilmartin the type to turn his back on friends. Well, no, they weren't really friends any longer—they'd made that clear—but still…

First things first. Step one: get Denise to some place safe. No, actually, that ended up being step number two, because some place safe was Sanctuary and then the Underground, neither of which he could access sitting here in this abandoned building waiting for Genomex to find them.

Decision made: they'd head for Sanctuary's back entrance, hopefully avoiding the Genomex goons. Those guys had a feral with them, and while Jesse knew that he could defend himself, he wasn't so certain that he could pull a young girl along with him. No, avoiding Genomex all together sounded like a much more workable plan. He rose smoothly to his feet. "Denise? Get your stuff together. Time to get out of here."

"What stuff?" came the grumpy reply. Clearly the thrill of living on the run was wearing off.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It wouldn't be so bad if the pain in his gut didn't so damn much_hurt!_ There were so many things Brennan Mulwray wanted to do: call the girls back to Sanctuary for back up, haul Kenny's ass out of the Sanctuary computer and demonstrate just how seriously pissed off he had made Brennan, and the Miata really was overdue for its tune up. Oh, yeah, and somewhere on that list he ought to include _I want to live!_

But for the time being he was confined to lying on the floor and making a nasty red mess that was staining the carpet. Movement was out of the question, and even breathing was getting to be in doubt. He wondered if they'd try a professional carpet cleaning company for the blood stain or just give it up as a bad job, rip the carpet out and replace it with high end linoleum. Ceramic tiles with a sturdy sealant might be nice; they'd resist blood the next time this sort of thing happened.

Too bad Brennan wouldn't be around to see it.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"They spent the night here." Shalimar looked around the little cubby hole, her eyes golden. "Together."

"Really?" Emma arched her eyebrows.

Shalimar sniffed a moment or two longer, then sniffed in relief. "Just close. For warmth. Nothing more."

"Ah." That sounded more like the Jesse Kilmartin Emma knew. "Are they close by?"

"No, I don't think so." But Shalimar suddenly went on point. "Emma, someone's after them."

"Genomex?"

"No way to tell, but I wouldn't be surprised." Shalimar closed her eyes and inhaled the surroundings. "There's a feral with them. Canine, maybe wolf. Two others that are human."

Emma looked around, despite the fact there was nothing to see. "I think we'd better hurry."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They probably would have been okay if Denise hadn't had such an aversion to snakes.

The zoo had seemed like a decent place to hide out for a while, at least until Jesse could figure out how to contact Mutant X and Sanctuary without getting killed or captured by either Mutant X or Genomex. Lots of people, lots of crowds to mingle with, lots of nooks and crannies to meander around. Looking at the zebras went well, and even the bats didn't fluster the girl. Jesse would have enjoyed the excursion more if he hadn't felt the need to watch out for a trio of dark suits, one of whom frequently looked like he was sniffing the air for the scent of his prey. And, since that's exactly what the suited feral was doing—hunting for Jesse—the molecular felt obligated to make the trail as difficult as he possibly could. Which meant deliberately stepping in the remnants of the elephants strolling by to mask the trail. Surreptitiously and thankfully cleaning off his shoes in the water sprayed over the crocodiles was another option that he took advantage of.

Denise stayed oblivious.

Which was fine with Jesse. They needed to throw Genomex off before heading off for Sanctuary's back door, and the less worry he could give the girl, the better. She was finally having a good time—_enjoying yourself? With Genomex around? Serious mental aberrations here!_—and clung on to Jesse's arm, playing the role of his girlfriend for all she was worth. This was the one time that it was worth while that Denise looked older than her years, Jesse decided. Nobody hassled them for ID of an underage girl. No problems.

Until Jesse caught sight of a trio of black suits at the far end of the pathway, next to the camel exhibit. As in: far too close for comfort. He swiveled her around and headed in another direction.

"Jesse?"

"We don't want to go that way," he said quietly into her ear. "No, don't look; you'll attract attention. Just walk. Fast." He urged her forward, judging the speed at which she could go before needing to break into a run, trying to decide if it was fast enough.

It wasn't going to be. The trio had spotted them. Time for stronger measures. Jesse glanced around, looking for a locked door, something that would slow their pursuers.

There it was, a moderately large door with a large padlock on it to keep out visitors to the zoo from areas where they shouldn't be. Just the thing; Jesse could slip them both inside and cause their pursuers to waste minutes if not an hour trying to figure out where the two had exited to. In the meantime, Jesse and Denise could hightail it out of the zoo and leave the dangerous feral and his handlers behind.

"C'mon." Jesse de-solidified the door and pushed Denise through.

They found themselves in a cage; literally, a cage. There was straw on the floor, and a whole bale of it in one corner. It was dusty, and smelled dusky. It was dark because the windows were on the opposite side of the enclosure. And, thankfully, there were no occupants of the cage.

Those were located behind the next set of bars.

Cold eyes stared back at the two with the disdain that only a member of the _Order Reptiliae_ could manage. The snake was a magnificent specimen and he/she/it—Jesse was not about to inquire as the sexual orientation, not under the circumstances—knew it. The scales on the creature were large and black and shiny with just the hint of a ruby glow to them. Jesse hadn't a clue as to the exact species. The little placard on the crowd-friendly other side of the cage from the snake undoubtedly would inform him, but Jesse declined on the spot to traverse the distance. He suspected that the scaly creature weighed more than he did, and getting into its loving embrace would probably not be the wisest course of action. It would, however, quite possibly be his last.

Unfortunately, there was no other way out of the cage that Jesse and Denise found themselves in. Or, rather, there was. It involved phasing. It involved phasing back out of the building into the arms of Genomex. Great choice: phasing into the non-existent arms of Friend Snake in the cage next door or handing a business card to Genomex.

Jesse looked at the door behind them.

Jesse looked at the snake.

Jesse looked at Denise.

"C'mon," he decided, taking her arm.

"No way!"

"Denise—"

"There's a freakin' _snake_ in there!"

"Yes, I know." Jesse tried to keep his temper. "And there's three outside, all hired by Genomex. With legs."

"Better." Denise was terrified. "Go beat 'em up!"

Reality was not part of this girl's scene, and that without benefit of drugs. What a waste.

"Not going to happen." Jesse might be foolish sometimes, but this was not one of them. Three Genomex agents against one molecular on his own? "Look, the snake is on the other side of its cage and won't bother us. We can slide on by, along the side. It's probably well-fed, won't care that we're walking through."

"Yes, it will!"

"Keep your voice down. They'll hear us!"

"I don't care! I'm not going into no cage with no snake!" Grammar was deteriorating along with rationality. And the decibels were rising.

"Denise—"

Too late. Jesse made the discovery that one of the other suits along with the feral was also a mutant. As it turned out, the man was a chromatic, able to use light for his own purposes. And, at the moment, the chromatic's purpose was to eliminate the barrier between himself and his prey.

The locked door that Jesse had recently phased them through turned molten under the onslaught of a mutant-generated laser. A long, lean red line traced the outline of a new door. A booted foot kicked the new door down.

The Genomex suits grinned.

"Going somewhere?" the feral inquired.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Planning on taking them with us."

A new voice inserted itself into the conversation. The voice came from behind the trio of Genomex goons. And it was feminine. And very determined.

And very unexpected, since it belonged to Shalimar Fox.

The three from Genomex whirled around and gaped. Jesse didn't have to whirl around since he was facing in the proper direction, but he gaped anyway. _Can't let the Genomex guys feel left out_. "Shalimar? What are you doing here?"

Shalimar took time out for a glare. "Couldn't you ask silly questions later?" She ducked as the feral leaped at her, gliding smoothly out of the way. The canine feral would have crashed into the ground had he not been a feral. Instead, he bounded back from the dirt to the wall and again at Shalimar.

That was disturbing. If elegant acrobatics weren't going to be effective, Shalimar was perfectly happy to try something else—say, dismemberment. The next go around collected the canine feral a swat across the nose. The effect was approximately the same as a cat slapping a dog with claws out-stretched. A reasonably sensible dog would learn to let an angry pussycat alone. This feral couldn't—or wouldn't, since the alternative was facing Mason Eckhart. So he ended up with yet another blow, this one that knocked his brains in one direction and his tail in the other. He collapsed in a heap.

Except, Shalimar reasoned, that this feral, stupid as he was, clearly kept his brains somewhere other than his head. Oh, well. Maybe he'd learn from this encounter anyway. _You don't mess with Mutant X_.

There was very little that was faster than the speed of light, and the chromatic mutant knew it. He gloried in it. He was damn good, and he would be pleased to share this knowledge with the members of Mutant X. He was faster than sound, he was faster than a speeding bullet, and he was a whole heck of a lot faster than the snake in the next cage over. Speed was his element, for almost nothing could match the speed of light that would be emitted from his fingertips.

Nothing, that is, except the speed of thought.

Emma was not in the mood for dallying. Women who threw a dirty look toward a man never quite knew whether or not the man would abide by the unsubtle signal thrown his way. Emma did not have that concern. The look that she threw could have pole-axed an ox.

The chromatic wasn't quite as large as an ox, but that didn't matter. He slumped to the ground, right on top of leftover horse manure. Emma didn't care about that either. There was a sixteen year old girl to defend and Emma was in no mood to be polite.

Jesse, relieved of responsibility for two of the Genomex goons, turned on the third one. He lifted his eyebrows, and massed his fist. _Mutant?_

The man shook his head. _Normal, you freak_.

_Too bad_.

_For you_. The man pulled out his pistol and took aim.

Jesse massed entirely.

The bullets bounced like silver balls dancing around the old pin ball machine that Brennan had rescued from the junk heap several thousand years ago. The elemental always swore that he was going to restore it, but hadn't yet. The only restoration that Jesse, on the other hand, was concerned with was restoring the balance of power in his favor. Thus, the rock hard pile driver that his fist became bare moments before connecting with the man's head was entirely warranted.

Having disposed of the man to his satisfaction, Jesse turned to the next pressing problem: "What are you guys doing here? How did you find us?"

"It wasn't easy, Jesse." Shalimar punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow! Shal—"

"Why did you run out on us?" Shalimar demanded. "Are you crazy?"

"I—"

"And when were you going to tell us you found Denise?" Emma wanted to know. She punched him in the other shoulder. "Adam's been frantic with worry."

"Ow! Emma, I—"

Shalimar turned to Denise. "Get your things. We're taking you to Sanctuary."

Denise's eyes lit up. "Really? For real?"

"For real. Get your things."

"Haven't got any." Denise snuck a look at Jesse under long dark lashes. "I lost it all."

"Way to go, Jess." Shalimar punched the sole male member of the group in the arm again.

"Ow! Shalimar—"

"Shut up, Kilmartin, before _I_ tell you what I think of you," Emma told him, aiming a significant shrug at the chromatic moaning on top of the dung heap. "We're going home. Well?" she demanded, as Jesse hung back. "What are you waiting for?"

"I…" For the life of him, Jesse couldn't think of what to say. Did they want him, or not? The phrase 'mixed messages' didn't even _begin_ to cover it. "You…"

"Tongue-tied. Again." Shalimar turned to Emma. "What I do for my team." She turned back to Jesse. "Let me put this in words of one syllable, Jesse. Get your ass in the car. Now."

Jesse gulped. "Right." _They wanted him back!_ "Right!"


	6. Desires and Deceptions 6

"Adam? Brennan?" Emma called out. The halls of Sanctuary echoed cavernously. There were no welcoming sounds to greet them, no Brennan poking his head out asking what took them so long, no Adam with a smile at finding Denise.

"This doesn't sound good," Shalimar agreed, taking the optic paralyzer off of Denise. The feral craned her head around: looking, listening, even sniffing the air, going tense at the emptiness.

The kid looked around, her eyes open and huge and taking in every gleaming aspect of her new surroundings. "Wow! Way cool! This is Sanctuary?"

"Not just another safe house," Jesse told Denise, crossing over to the wall to flick the light switch. Nothing happened; nothing turned on. The halls stayed dim, just barely illuminated by the emergency power generators. The lack of light sent eerie shadows lurking in and about everything, and Jesse dodged to avoid barking his shin on a wall planter. "The power's blown. Wonder what happened?"

"I _really_ wonder what happened," Shalimar said, her eyes darting around. If she had had a tail, it would have been twitching. "I don't like this. Emma?"

"Bad vibes," Emma reported. "Bad vibes from Brennan, and I can't feel Adam at all. Nor Kenny." She looked back at them, eyes wide with concern. "I think we'd better look around fast."

"I agree," Jesse said, but glanced over at Shalimar. "Shal? You see anything?"

The feral's eyes had already turned golden, and she _looked_ around her with sense that the others could only begin to imagine. "No one here but us chickens," was her reply. There was no amusement in her voice.

But something else had penetrated the Kilmartin consciousness. "Kenny? Why would Kenny be here?" Then it hit. His face fell. "Oh. You brought him in to replace me. Ow!" he complained as Shalimar punched him in the shoulder one more time. "Shalimar, stop doing that!"

"Then stop being a moron," she told him. "No one can replace you, Jess. And certainly not a computer nerd like Kenny. Remember this: _you skipped out, right when we needed you the most!_ Now, get to work and fix Sanctuary so that we can find Adam and Brennan and the computer geek."

"No, wait." Emma's eyes glazed over. "Shalimar, we need to search Sanctuary first. There's something very wrong here." She gathered herself back to reality, fear already in her face. "Come on. We have to hurry."

Which is how they located Brennan, lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

Shalimar found him first. She caught the whiff of blood as soon as they entered the corridor leading to the computer room, and went flying forward, heedless of any possible danger.

"Guys!" There was panic in her scream.

There were only two things that could panic Shalimar Fox, and there was no fire here. Jesse and Emma dashed forward, Denise in their wake.

"Oh, man!" Jesse breathed. Behind him Denise gave a small shriek of dismay. _This ain't a fantasy, Denise. This is for real_.

The elemental was in trouble. His hand, covered in his own blood, plucked feebly at the hole in his shirt, trying to bat away the pain and maybe keep the rest of his blood from leaking out. Emma dropped to her knees beside him and ripped open the fabric for a better look.

It wasn't encouraging. The hole in Brennan's side looked impossibly huge, and the blood had already begun to clot. It was amazing that he was still alive, although that situation didn't look as though it would continue indefinitely. "We have to get him to the clinic for treatment," Emma said. "Where's Adam?"

"Million dollar question," Jesse said grimly. He held up a blood-encrusted object: a knife. "How much you want to bet that this was left behind by the assassin?"

"And that Adam didn't leave willingly," Shalimar added. She pillowed Brennan's head in her lap. "We're here, Brennan. Everything will be just fine." _Praying that her words wouldn't be a lie_.

Brennan's eyes wrenched themselves open through sheer willpower. "Adam," he whispered. "Kenny."

"We'll find them," Shalimar promised, dashing a tear from her eye. "We'll find Adam and Kenny, and Adam will be back to help you. We'll save them, and you. Just hang on, Brennan!"

"Kenny," Brennan insisted urgently, not finding the strength to say anything further. Blood appeared at the edge of his lip, dredged from somewhere deep inside.

They carried Brennan to the clinic, depositing him gently onto the med-bed, Emma flying into a flurry of action, trying to remember what Adam had taught her. This went well beyond a few experiments with a Petri dish and a Bunsen burner, but there was no choice. Failure to act would result in a dead elemental, and Emma was not willing to give up. IV's slipped into place, oxygen going over the nose and mouth, and bandages over the wound which appeared even more frightening when cleaned of blood and detritus. There seemed to be important pieces of Brennan hanging out over the edges of the knife slash.

"I'm afraid to give him anything for the pain," Emma muttered. "That could kill him."

Sweat beaded out on Brennan's forehead, and it hurt to see him simply bite his lip against the agony stabbing him in the gut, but not a sound did he make. Not a whimper. Only the knuckles whitened in their grasp on the sheet covering his legs betrayed him.

Emma came to a decision. "I need room to work," she announced quietly.

"Emma?"

But the psionic had already moved into action. There was one area—psionics—that she was an expert in, and she would make use of her expertise to help this man that she cared so deeply about. She didn't need it, but tactile contact facilitated the connection. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she gently touched Brennan's temples and entered his mind.

Different people experienced pain in different fashions, and sometimes the type of pain was reflected in the images that each brought forth. Brennan was no exception. Emma did not deliberately go into the minds of her teammates—in fact, only ventured forth when needed—but sometimes, late at night when dreams were the most vivid, their thoughts would come to her unbidden, inviting her to play in another mutant's fantasies. Some times she did—the thrill of the hunt from her feral sister, and the feeling of 'sand sifting through fingertips' sensation that Jesse sometimes got when phasing through a solid wall. From Brennan would come an almost orgasmic jolt rippling past every neuromuscular fiber, electrons coursing baldly through his nerves even in the deepest of his sleep.

But Emma avoided going into the minds of people in pain. It hurt too much, to share the visceral agony of a ruptured appendix or the lingering snarl from a scalding burn. Calm, yes, that she would project, inviting the other to join her in avoiding the pain; an escape from reality. But to deliberately go into Hell? No.

Not today. Her teammate lay on the bio-bed in front of her, too weak to even writhe in pain, yet the waves of sensation crashed at her mental blockades. She had to do something about it. Adam would have administered some amazing pharmaceutical miracle to the elemental; Emma hadn't a clue as to what to give. All she could offer was herself.

And that meant going into Brennan's mind and leading him out. Leading him to a place where he could avoid the agony, where he could focus on healing. It meant helping the elemental to survive until someone with real medical expertise—someone, say, like Adam—could arrive at this bedside to perform the physical half of the life-saving. That part couldn't come too soon.

The jolt stabbed first through her fingertips, gateway to the mind. Emma jerked with the shock of it, almost losing her balance before being able to acknowledge and withstand the pain. She shook her head at the others who moved in to help—their touch would only distract her from the task at hand—and moved deeper into Brennan's mind.

The Psychic Overworld was a reality unto itself, with little to no regard for conventional laws of physics. Emma had trained herself to traverse its dangers as well as anyone, and even Adam himself had no idea of what lay on these planes. How could he? He wasn't a psionic. Emma had just once tried to explain it to him, and they had both given up. Adam needed words to describe, and Emma used feelings without form. Understanding wasn't going to happen.

Brennan needed her now to survive. Emma slipped into the farthest recesses of his mind, searching for what she loosely termed the 'soul'. Once, twice, she thought she caught a glimpse of him, only to have the shadowy figure disappear in the billowing black smoke that seemed to be everywhere.

_Brennan_, she 'called' out, hoping the man might come to her. It happened that way sometimes, here in the Psychic Overmind; you thought of someone, and you were brought together for what was _literally_ a meeting of the minds.

No luck. The man was so lost that he wouldn't, or couldn't—no, wait! What was that? That slight swirl of smoke, that puff of darkness that wrongly wafted _left_ instead of _right_? Emma 'moved' forward.

And found Brennan. The man was huddled in a corner of his mind, knees drawn up and chin tucked down as far as he could go, trying not to draw attention to himself. Trying to avoid the notice of the pain that eddied around him, choking the psychic air that he breathed.

_Brennan?_

A wordless moan of agony was all she got back in return. There was no hiding from this sort of assault; every shred of feeling was there for Emma to examine in detail. Brennan tried to force himself into an even smaller ball of misery. Even here, here on the Psychic Planes, the knife wound to his side loomed large and red.

Conjuring bandages from pure thought, Emma rushed forward to try to staunch the flow of blood. The flow had been slowed back in the real world, but here, on the Psychic Planes, the blood symbolized the distress her team mate was suffering.

It wasn't just the blood trickling out, Emma realized. It was the smoke as well. The black viscous stuff was all around, making it difficult to breathe. Emma had to take a mental step back, keep herself clear of Brennan's pain, before she could continue.

Then it came to her: the smoke was an echo of the pain. The agony was too large to be contained in one frail human vessel, and was cascading into the psychic world around her team mate. That would have to be dealt with before anything else.

She knelt again at his side, determined to stick it out for his sake. _Brennan?_

A wordless moan.

_Brennan, it's all right. I'm here. I'll help you_.

_Hurts._

_I know. Let's put it into the box. We've done it before_.

_Can't_. Even the mental groan sounded like a gasp, and Brennan showed Emma the 'box' where he had tried to shove away the pain. It was a convenient mental imagery that usually worked: push all the pain into a small corner of the mind so that something bigger could be dealt with. Emma had helped Brennan do it before.

Brennan's box was a small trunk, scuffed metal bands reinforcing the sides and top with a large padlock on the outside. The material itself appeared to be of dark wood, weathered by the multitude of life experiences the elemental had gone through, with a stray almost runic-looking symbol dotted here and there, carved into the very essence of the wood. Emma didn't recognize the symbols but she had no doubt that Brennan would.

It was obvious that Brennan had already attempted to do exactly as Emma had suggested, but it wasn't working. It was the 'smoke' that needed to be contained, and the 'box' was neither large enough nor air-tight to do the job. For every waft of smoke that had been fanned into it, more leaked out, expanding the area of agony that Brennan had to cope with.

It wasn't going to work. Stronger measures were needed.

Emma considered. 'Tools' were no problem; all she had to do was to dream up what she wanted, and she would have it with the speed and efficiency of thought itself. No, the concern would be that whatever solution she literally dreamed up must be effective for Brennan. She needed to remove this black smoke, this symbolic pain, from around him.

A filter. No, that was passive. Any 'air' on this psychic plane that happened to pass through it would be cleansed of agony, but how to cycle all of the air around them? More would simply leak out of the elemental, and they'd be back to where they started…

No. Not a filter. Something to clean the area: a vacuum cleaner. A nozzle to inhale the smoke, a continually running engine to pull the air through the filter inside the nozzle and spit out clean and refreshing oxygen so that Brennan could cope with his injuries.

As quickly as thought, the vacuum canister arrived in her hands. Emma looked at it: a squat floor model on wheels, looking every bit as modern as the 1940's. She sighed; this was Brennan's nightmare. If he wanted something that looked like it belonged in a museum alongside an Edsel, then who was she to object? As long as it worked. Emma flipped the switch.

The little canister roared into action, the nozzle vibrating in her hands. Smoke was pulled into the machine; Emma glanced over to see that the resulting air being blown out by the exhaust fan was clear and pain-free. She allowed herself to feel a small bit of triumph.

First, clear the air around her team mate. Emma concentrated on that first, making a space so that she could see him. More smoke appeared from behind, but that didn't worry her. This was a long term project.

Slowly, Brennan relaxed, leaning back against what Emma now could see as a representation of Sanctuary itself. The walls were cold and steel-colored but still: this was the only real home that Brennan had known. His growing up years were turbulent, and the years shortly thereafter no better. Sanctuary was truly a safe haven for the troubled boy turned angry man, and when he hurt, Brennan came here. Where someone else might see hard metal and lack of warmth, Brennan found comfort and security.

Sanctuary was home.

And that Emma was able to see it was encouraging. She increased her efforts, moved the power button on the canister up a notch to 'high', knowing that even the power button settings had simply appeared when needed. It was actually Emma's efforts that had been switched into overdrive, but the actualities of the situation were unimportant. The symbolism held, and the smoke/pain was pulled into the vacuum and cleansed.

Emma knelt by his side, aiming the nozzle at the thickest area of smoke. _Brennan?_

_Emma_. Even that much exhausted the elemental.

_It's going to be all right_, she told him. _Where is Adam? And Kenny?_

_Kenny_. There was no mistaking the swirl of dark anger that emanated from the elemental at the thought of the computer mutant.

_Brennan? What's wrong? What did Kenny do?_

_Computer_. Brennan's head lolled to the side, trying to summon the energy to 'tell' the empath what had happened. _Took…computer…_

_Kenny took Adam into the computer?_ Emma felt horror; as an empath, she could think of nothing worse. To be reduced to a mere flow of electrons dancing through various circuit boards and processing units? That was natural for a computer mutant but how had Adam, a normal man, been dragged along? For it was clear from Brennan's condition that Adam had not gone willingly. And that concept supplied its own answer as to how Brennan had acquired a knife thrust to his gut. _How did Kenny do it?_

More smoke oozed out, and Brennan couldn't bite back the cry fast enough.

Emma came to a decision. _I'll be right back_, she promised him, caressing his face, trying to comfort him. She put the nozzle into his hand, helped him to direct it at the greatest area of darkness. _I have to tell the others._

Brennan closed his eyes. _Help… Adam…_ he agreed.

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"But that's impossible," Jesse objected. "Adam's not a computer mutant. It's simply not possible for a normal to go traipsing through…" His voice trailed off as a thought occurred.

Emma knew better than to interrupt the flow of ideas. She laid a restraining hand on Shalimar's arm. The feral was restless, eager to tear a certain computer mutant to shreds if only she could find him.

The concept coalesced in Jesse's head. He came to a decision. "You guys put the CAMS module into the computer, didn't you?"

"Adam did," Shalimar agreed. "It was working great."

"I'll bet it was," Jesse muttered, almost to himself. "Listen, this is going to take a little bit. In the meantime, do not, and I repeat: _do not_ power up Sanctuary. Not until I cut _all_ the lines of communication to the outside world. One slip, and Kenny will take Adam so far away through the Internet that we'll never find him."

"So what do we do?" Shalimar asked.

Jesse wasn't quite certain himself, but the others wouldn't have known it by the confidence that he exuded. "I tear down the CAMS chip. The answer has to be there. That has to be the way that Kenny transformed Adam into electrons. Kenny does it through his mutation; he must have somehow developed a module that can do the same thing electronically." He grimaced. "And what one person can do, another person can back-engineer." Jesse looked grim. "And I damn well will."

Emma nodded. She now had her team on the right track. _But would it be in time?_ "I have to get back to Brennan," she said. "Jesse, I'll do everything I can for him until you get Adam back."

Shalimar nodded. "What can I do?"

"Stay out of my way," Jesse told her. "No, wait. I'll need a go-fer. Start with a screwdriver, so I can open up the mainframe and take a look at that CAMS module."

"And me?" The voice was tiny, and they had all but forgotten the sixteen year old girl that they had dragged along with them. A girl who was only now realizing what it took to play with the big kids.

Shalimar took pity on the child who towered over her. "Come on, Denise. You can help me help Jesse."

Denise gave an unhappy smile. This situation was not what she had expected from Mutant X.

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"All right," Jesse announced. The floor was littered with computer guts, and Jesse sat on the floor in the midst of it all. "I've cut all possible connections to the outside world: wireless, satellite, you name it. We can power up Sanctuary, and Kenny and Adam are not going anywhere but around in circles. Kenny is stuck inside Sanctuary's computers."

"Will he come out?" Shalimar asked. "Out of the computer, I mean."

"Good question," Jesse shrugged. "I really wish we had Brennan up and running." A shadow crossed his face; Emma was with the elemental in the clinic, monitoring his status. It wasn't good; they needed Adam, and fast. Moving Brennan to a hospital, Emma told them, would likely kill the man. He had lost too much blood, and was losing more every minute. And then there was Genomex to consider; Eckhart would swoop down on the hospitalized man before anyone could sneeze. Jesse continued, "if we had Brennan, we could selectively fry parts of the main frame and confine Kenny to smaller and smaller parts of the Sanctuary computers. We could force him out."

"But we don't," Shalimar said bleakly. "What do we do?"

A sigh. "I think I can get the CAMS module to work for us."

"What?"

"I said, I think—"

"I heard what you said, I just don't believe it," Shalimar interrupted. "You want to go inside the computer yourself and battle it out with Kenny?"

"Well, not exactly," Jesse hedged.

"Good. It was a crazy idea."

"I kind'a want us _both_ to go in."

Shalimar stared. "You're out of your mind."

"Yeah, and go into the computer's. It can be done, Shalimar," Jesse insisted, though it would have sounded better if he put more confidence into his voice. "At least, there's a sixty-forty chance I can do it. I think."

"Who's got the sixty, and who's got the forty?"

"That doesn't matter." Jesse brushed the comment away, which Shalimar took to mean that Mutant X was currently holding the short end of the stick. "What does matter is that there's a shot. We need to get Adam out of the computer—I'll be perfectly content to let Kenny spin his wheels inside for a while—and into the clinic with Brennan. How 'bout it? You game?"

"You got a better plan?"

"No."

"Then I'm in." Shalimar was not a happy feral. Best place for her was some place outdoors where there was plenty of room to swing a fist or two and leap from one surface to another, laws of gravity unimportant. Going inside a computer—_sterile metal, no hunting scents to follow!_—seemed like the worst possible place to be. "But that's assuming you can get this ridiculous scheme to work. After all, the odds are against you."

"Yeah." Jesse winced. "But it's better than doing nothing."

By the look on her face, Jesse hadn't convinced Shalimar. He continued his preparations anyway.


	7. Desires and Deceptions 7

She had done all she knew to do in the real world, and now Emma had turned her attention to the Psychic Overworld once again. They were losing the battle; that was plain. Brennan was huddled in a corner of his mind, now unable to do anything more than mutter at her when she mentally poked at him. That was symbolic of his physical state: the man was unconscious, lying on the clinic bed, his brain shut down by the loss of blood still oozing sluggishly out through the slice that Kenny had left in his former friend. The intravenous liquids that she poured in through collapsed veins kept Brennan alive but that state of being, she knew, wouldn't last forever. Brennan needed Adam. He needed him now.

There was more smoke in Brennan's Overworld than Emma remembered; not a good sign, for it meant that Brennan hadn't been able to keep up with the psychic tools that she had given him. Again, not a surprise; the astonishment was that Brennan had hung on as long as he had. Emma headed for where the smoke was the thickest, coughing and choking her way through until she stumbled over her teammate and nearly knocked herself silly against the soot-covered wall he had positioned himself against.

The psychic vacuum cleaner that Emma had left Brennan was still working but just barely. The motor in the small canister wheezed and hacked itself, inhaling slender shafts of the black smoke but clearly unable to keep up with demand. That too was unsurprising; what was remarkable was that Brennan was still alive and making feeble attempts to help himself. He needed relief.

And help was what Emma came prepared to give. She gently rescued the nozzle of the vacuum from Brennan's limp hand, allowing the elemental to fall back exhausted against the wall that he'd erected in his mind to cover his back. Summoning her greater strength, she poured that energy into the vacuum. It roared back into new life, scooping up the blackness and fanning out clean air for them both to breathe.

_Better than morphine_, Brennan gasped, his head lolling on his chest. His eyes wouldn't focus.

_Gave you that, too, Brennan, in the mundane world_, Emma smirked, pleased that her teammate felt strong enough once again to 'talk' to her. Her presence was helping. _Rest now. I'll take over for a bit_.

_No argument here_.

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"This is gonna work, right?" To say there was doubt in Shalimar's voice was an understatement. Downright disbelief would be more accurate; disbelief mixed with a dash of hope that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't have to go.

That hope was based on the observation that the computer room of Sanctuary had been turned into a pigsty of computer guts. Every square inch of space was littered with wires and chips, cables and the occasional metal box thing that defied easy description. Further scanning showed the discouraging view that most of the metal boxes were jerry-rigged to each other with the whole concoction plugged into an overflowing power strip of outlets. Shalimar's heart sank; it looked like Jesse's plan to enter cyberspace was moving forward. Beside her, Denise looked on in unabashed horror at the mess.

Not that Shalimar didn't want to rescue Adam; far from it. But Shalimar Fox, feral and delighted to be one, would much prefer that the rescuing take place somewhere else. Somewhere, ideally, that contained trees, open space, and plenty of room to send Kenny and whatever minions he'd managed to acquire flying through the air to land in an undignified heap. Cyberspace didn't qualify.

Jesse beamed; clearly he was proud of the mess he'd produced. Shalimar managed a feeble smile.

"We're ready to go," Jesse informed her. Power had already been restored to the mainframe on a limited basis, as evidenced by the blinking lights on the computer bank begging for more. A shadow crossed his face. "Brennan?"

"Not good." Shalimar hardened her resolve. Cyberspace or not, they had to rescue their mentor and _now_. "Emma's scared. We have to get Adam back soon."

"Shouldn't you take Brennan to a hospital or something?" Denise asked.

Shalimar shook her head. "Genomex would be onto him in a flash. They keep people checking the records exactly for things like that, Denise. They'd snatch Brennan so fast they'd leave the hospital gown standing by itself in the corridor. We don't dare, not unless we want him in a pod." Denise shuddered; she'd seen those pods and wanted no part of them.

Jesse handed Shalimar a bracelet. In looks, it would have been passed over in any jewelry store: it was a plain band composed of crude looking links hooked to a circuit chip. Shalimar chose not to wrinkle up her nose, though Denise showed no such restraint. This was not the time for fashion.

Jesse appreciated the feral's forbearance. "This call back device is what will pull us out of the computer at the proper time," he explained. Shalimar grew a great deal more interested in the piece of ugly looking 'jewelry'. "I've set up the CAMS chip to put us into the computer, and, Denise, I want you here at the console to flip the switch that will get us out. Pull us back exactly thirty minutes after we go in. I figure that will give us enough time to look around, grab Adam, and skedaddle. What do you think, Shal?"

Shalimar shrugged. "I think I'm crazy for going along with this, but other than that, I'm for it. When do we leave?" She clamped the bracelet around her wrist. It closed with a resounding snap.

Jesse glanced uneasily down the corridor, doing the same with his own call back device. That corridor led to the clinic—and Brennan. "The sooner, the better."

Shalimar nodded soberly. "Let's go."

Jesse gestured. "Denise, if you please? No, that switch, not that one." He hastily moved the girl's hand to the proper toggle. "Don't touch anything else. Just that one switch." He grinned at her. "See you in half an hour."

Denise threw the switch.

It didn't feel good. There was no way to describe the sensation of being _altered_ into electronic representations of self and then reconstituted into a remarkably complex program known as Shalimar-1. Shalimar came to herself to find her world now a featureless gray domain, devoid of everything. The best she could say was that it felt: empty.

Jesse came up behind her, and Shalimar jumped. And grew scared: "Jesse, I didn't sense you!"

"Not surprising," was his response. "I didn't have time to program in a sense of smell, and sound doesn't carry here like it does in the real world."

"Then this isn't the real world?"

"Hardly," Jesse laughed. "I got us into an unused sector of the D drive, hoping that Kenny wouldn't notice us entering. I give us a fifty-fifty chance of that happening: Kenny's probably delighted that he now has power to work with, but that will also make him nervous that we're about to try something."

"Which we are. He'll be looking for us."

"Yeah, but he won't know _how_ we're coming. He doesn't know that we figured out how to follow him into the computer."

"You mean, _you_ figured it out, Kilmartin. I take no responsibility for this little excursion."

"Whatever. Stick close," Jesse advised, pulling the feral back toward him. "Don't get caught up in the illusion," he added, referring to the grove of trees in the distance that was all but calling to the feral by name. "That's a leftover file from Dungeons and Dragons. Don't go there; there are a bunch of trolls and ogres lurking."

"I thought you said this sector was unused."

"Yeah, but there's some old stuff still stored here, and I suspect that it's still plenty potent. Remember, we've only got thirty minutes to find Adam and vamoose." Jesse indicated the clunky bracelet on her arm. "That thing will pull us back, assuming Denise remembers which switch to pull. Adam doesn't have one. Our primary objective is to find Adam and be hanging onto him when our thirty minutes are up. We have one shot at this, Shal," Jesse added. "Once Kenny realizes what we're up to, he'll hide Adam behind so many layers of anti-virus protection that we'll never be able to break him loose. Our only chance is to rescue Adam before Kenny figures out what's happening."

"Let me get this straight." Shalimar looked around at the featureless gray environment. "We're in an unused part of the computer."

"The hard drive, actually, labeled D. Nothing much stored here, that's why it looks gray. Nothing to spice it up."

"Anything I see is actually data. Zeroes and ones and stuff."

"Yup. Although Adam gave up using machine language a few generations ago. Too slow to work with." Jesse pointed to a massive and gleaming black building, far in the distance. "That thing over there? It's too far to tell, but I think that might be part of the mutant database. In this perception, I'll bet we could waltz in and find ourselves in a library or a giant file room."

Shalimar shuddered.

"Hey, come on, Shal. That file room automatically files the documents itself. No leftover filing for the secretaries."

"Great." Shalimar began walking. "Let's find Adam. Which drive did you say Kenny had him stashed in?"

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Emma looked at Brennan with an odd sort of double perception, half in the Overworld and half psychically grounded. There weren't many people that could do this sort of thing, and it required tremendous self-control. But Emma needed to juggle too many things at the moment: both Brennan's physical and mental resources were failing. His breath now whistled in and out, wheezing precious molecules of air into his lungs. Moving as if in a room filled with sluggish warm water, Emma slowly increased the oxygen flow to the man's face, turned up the intravenous fluids, and added another drop or two of morphine to the mix. The bandage at Brennan's waist looked viciously red, and Emma tacked another layer of dressing over it to contain the drainage.

There. She'd done all that she could. Time to return completely to the Overworld to continue to convince Brennan to stay and fight. It was a losing battle; Brennan was exhausted, and Emma could see the dark vultures circling in the psychic distance.

_Guys, better hurry_.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jesse massed in time to deflect the heavy wooden club that descended toward his head. The knobby piece bounced and socked the Neanderthal in the face. Jesse followed it up with a knock-out punch to the jaw.

Shalimar wasn't watching. She bounced off a boulder that conveniently materialized for her use, and wrenched the other Neanderthal into a pretzel before choking him into submission. _Strong, but slow_. _And damn good at hiding_.

"Where did they come from?" she gasped. "Did Kenny send them?"

Jesse shrugged. "Probably not. I seem to recall them from some game or other. The bytes probably got mislaid, and we ran across them."

"This isn't gonna happen often, is it? We've only got twenty minutes left before Denise yanks us out of here. We need to hurry."

"I doubt it. I defragged the hard drives not too long ago. Hey, what's that? Over there." Jesse pointed.

"Let's split up." Shalimar's eyes had gone golden. This might be a computer landscape, but Shalimar wasn't above using whatever advantage her feral nature would give her. Sound was deadened and scent non-existent, but the excellent quality of the video card had translated into superior vision for the feral. She used that sense now to survey the enemy.

Kenny had devised a very user-friendly set up for himself to wait until power was restored to the Sanctuary mainframe, for he had no doubt that it eventually would happen. His new home started with an Oriental rug, moved through a recliner with a wet bar beside it, and ended up with a computer console that was a geek's wet dream. The computer mutant was _very_ comfortable.

Not so his captive: for Adam, Kenny had slapped together a small wire cage with no amenities. Adam could only stand, grasping the bars, and look on as Kenny amused himself exploring their new home. There was no room for anything beyond standing in the coffin-sized prison; Adam was forced into the single position and obviously had been for the last several hours. Periodically the cage would sizzle, and Adam would jump and bang against more bars; Kenny had programmed the cage to deliver random electric shocks to his captive as a way of reminding the older man just who was in control. It was evident that the situation was amusing for the computer mutant, who giggled each time Adam got zapped. Shalimar stifled a growl of fury.

Hand signals went into effect: Mutant X would split up. Jesse would distract Kenny while Shalimar would pull Adam out of his cage. With his defensive capabilities, they knew that Jesse would be able to withstand anything that Kenny could throw at him. All Jesse had to do was to solidify and survive for the next five minutes. As soon as Adam was free, Shalimar could remove their mentor from the vicinity where Kenny could get at him, and when the thirty minutes were up Mutant X would be hauled out of the computer, courtesy of the Denise-operated switch and a couple of very ugly bracelets. _Fool-proof_.

So why did Shalimar wonder who were the fools?

Jesse circled around to approach from the opposite side, pulling Kenny's line of sight away from his captive. He waited for a moment or two for Shalimar to creep closer to Adam's cage, then acted.

"So this is where the rats hide," he called out, stepping into plain view.

Kenny's head whipped around. "You!" he hissed, jumping out of the comfortable recliner. He staggered a bit, caught off balance. The recliner had been _very_ comfortable, and Jesse's appearance equally unexpected. Non-computer mutants weren't supposed to be able to get inside a computer without the aid of a certain Kenneth Dickerson, mutant extraordinaire. Kenny straightened himself up.

Jesse subdued a smile. "Yeah. Me. In the flesh. Sort of. Little electronic in nature around here, but close enough for government work. Oh, but I forgot. You don't work for the government. Who do you work for, Kenny? Genomex? Not real good employers. The retirement benefits suck big time. And the hours you have to work to get the job done cut your pay to something like minimum wage."

"I work for me," Kenny sneered. "No more working for somebody else. Me! I own my own company."

"Right," Jesse interrupted, "with one employee: you. Not something I'd be proud of, and certainly not doing it like this."

Kenny went on the verbal offensive. "How did you get in here, Kilmartin? You're no computer mutant."

"You think you're the only one around who knows computers? Getting in was a piece of cake," Jesse lied. _Gotta keep him turned toward me, so that Shalimar can get Adam out._He could already see Shalimar approaching Adam's cage, saw that Adam was aware that Kenny was being attacked by not one but two members of Mutant X. This was Kenny's home turf, but Mutant X had numbers on their side. Adam stayed quiet, trying not to attract any attention. "Found your stupid computer chip," Jesse continued. "You put that together? Looks like a ten year old kid made it."

"You wish," Kenny replied. "That's high tech wizardry that you can only dream of, Kilmartin. You think you're good at computers? Watch this." Kenny waved a hand in the air.

It was then that Mutant X learned just what it meant to be a computer mutant.

A commando from _Havoc Online!_ dropped in from the non-existent ceiling, brandishing a machine gun. Jesse phased just in time to allow the flurry of bullets to dash through the empty space that he had suddenly become. Realizing that Assault Plan #1 wasn't effective, the commando moved on to Assault Plan #2: hand to hand combat.

Unfortunately for the commando, the game designers had neglected to factor in a molecular mutant for this particular level. The commando went down with a solidly phased blow to the jaw. The electronically created creature vanished, his vanquished form no longer required by the Kenny-computer.

A dragon was next; Jesse didn't have time to identify from which particular game Kenny had dragged it from. The dragon was big, and red, and deadly. But: time to take a page from Kenny's own book. Jesse electronically summoned a sword that he remembered using from _The __Terrible__Kingdom__, Version Three,_ grateful that he remembered storing the game on a particular sector on the E drive He particularly liked this sword because, in addition to a sharp edge, the sword would throw flame. And it would shield him from the dragon's own breath of fire—that feature came in handy right now! Jesse yelped, and shot back. The dragon was clearly from a three year old obsolete game, for it simply didn't have the electronic stamina to keep up with cutting edge technology such as Jesse's sword. Jesse smirked, and snuck a triumphant look toward Shalimar and Adam. _And you thought _Kenny_ was good with computers_. _I beat this game three years ago._

Shalimar slipped up behind the cage that Adam was imprisoned in, wincing in sympathy as an electric shock rippled through the metallic bars. Adam couldn't help the jerk of pain when the electrons jumped from the bars to his own flesh. But he steadfastly turned his attention to the feral, determined to ignore the torments that Kenny had designed for him.

"What are you doing here?" Adam hissed, carefully keeping his back to the tiny blonde woman so that Kenny wouldn't realize that she was here. "You'll get yourselves killed!"

"We're rescuing you, Adam. What does it look like?"

"How did you get in here? More importantly, how do you expect to get us all out?" Adam took a quick peek at the chunky bracelet that Shalimar wore. "I hope you're not counting on that piece of tinfoil around your wrist. That can't possibly work."

"It got us in here," Shalimar countered.

"Sheer luck. None of you could have cobbled together something like that in such a short period of time. It's a one in a million shot."

"At this point, it really doesn't matter. We're here." Shalimar yanked on the bars, determined to free her mentor. "Damn. What're these bars made of?"

"Solid, impenetrable electrons," Adam advised her wryly. "Kenny programmed it that way." He glanced over at Jesse who was gamely beating back two black-hooded ninjas and phasing every so often to allow a throwing star or two to pass through his insubstantial form. "Take down Kenny, and maybe you can force him to get us out of this computer. Then we won't have to rely on your faux jewelry." Adam looked around ruefully. "Never realized that the insides of a computer could be so…unique."

Shalimar glanced at her watch. "No time, Adam. We only have four minutes until Denise throws the switch that pulls us back out of the computer. I have to have you out by then."

"Denise?" Adam brightened. "You found her? Where was she?"

"With Jesse." Shalimar yanked on the bars, hissing in frustration. Was there no way to get the man out to safety? She looked around for a crowbar, something, anything. What had Jesse and Adam stored on this computer, and how did Kenny and Jesse access it? Shalimar needed to hurry. In four—now three and a half—minutes Denise would pull them out of Sanctuary's computers. If Shalimar didn't have Adam free by then, this whole mission would be in ruins. "Jesse found her. Genomex was after her."

"Of course. Jesse found her, without computer technology, without feral sense, without even a psionic search to locate her. Why didn't I think of that? It's completely illogical, so of course it had to be the correct answer."

"Shut up and help," Shalimar growled, knowing that even though Adam was tremendously strong for a normal human, his strength would not be enough to open these bars.

"Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh?"

"Jesse. Shalimar, go get him!"

The molecular was in trouble. Kenny had switched strategies: instead of combatants, he used guerilla tactics. A swarm of bees was now attacking Jesse from all sides, going for his eyes, his nose, anything they could get hold of. An acrid scent filled the air, and Shalimar identified the substance: acid of some sort. Jesse phased solid to try to protect himself, but it wasn't working. The acid that the bee-creatures sprayed was eating through his hardened form like—well, like acid etching glass. Much more, and the acid would eat its way through his flesh into vital organs. Jesse cried out, protecting his eyes with his hands.

"Water, Shalimar," Adam commanded. He strained at the bars, ignoring the shock that went through them and him, desperate to get out and help the molecular. "Spray him with water! That will disperse the bees and wash away the acid!"

"Like, where do I get water?" Shalimar grumbled, terrified for her team mate. Jesse was the computer whiz; how had he conjured up what he'd conjured up? Where was she supposed to get water inside a miracle of whirring parts?

Too late: Kenny noticed that his captive had company. He gloated; there was no other word for it. Kenny was delighted.

"Shalimar!" he exclaimed. "And here I thought that it was only Jesse, come to rescue the boss man."

"You're about to be toast," Shalimar promised, darting around the cage to stand in front of it and face Kenny. No time for computer shenanigans; Shalimar relied on Shalimar.

"Get real," Kenny advised. "In here, I dine on caviar and hundred year old wine and, when I get bored, I send Mario and Luigi for pizza with all the toppings. You have no idea how well I can control the computer landscape, Shalimar."

"I don't need to. I'm going to show you what it means to mess with Mutant X."

"You wish," Kenny told her. He waved his arms to the drives.

It wasn't fair. Kenny had all the advantages. What was it that the old science fiction master Robert Heinlein had said? _Sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic_. Kenny proved it by causing the bars of Adam's cage to reach out and grab the feral, dragging her into their embrace and, incidentally, into Adam's. There was barely enough room for the two of them to stand hugging each other close. It wasn't magic, but it sure acted like it.

"Hey!" Shalimar squawked. Adam put his arms around her to keep her from falling over as the bars pushed the pair closer together. Her hair brushed against his lips.

Kenny walked over; he hadn't finished gloating. Seeing the pair in a parody of a romantic embrace had its own delights. "I can keep this up forever," he told them. He caused the bars to squeeze them together an inch closer, and Adam grunted. "Eventually I'll find a way onto the 'net, and I'll take all three of you with me. For sale to the highest bidder: got any thoughts as to who that might be? Genomex? Small potatoes. I think there are some people who can top those offers." He grinned. "I'll make sure that it's a hefty sum. Wouldn't want to insult you, either one. You might get angry at me…."

Shalimar didn't understand it; Kenny's voice started getting softer and more distant. The electronic world that he had built started to fade and turn gray…

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Emma re-entered the Psychic Overworld, intent on finding Brennan once again. He was failing; that was certain. The slash in his side had opened once again, and the sluggish flow of blood had become more pronounced. Every wheeze of breath carried pain on it until Emma could stand it no longer and gave him more morphine than she thought she should. It seemed to help; the elemental sank into a quiet lethargy, his breathing almost non-existent.

The physical cared for as best she could, Emma turned her attention back to the mind. It was more difficult to find him this time, and had Emma not laid physical hands upon her teammate, she doubted that she would have been able to find him. She followed the tenuous thread that led to his innermost being, finding him sprawled on the 'floor' of the room that his mind had taken him to. Even here Brennan was barely conscious. Emma took his head into her lap, pouring all of her not inconsiderable energy into him to shore up his failing life force.

_Hurry, guys. I don't know how much longer I can keep him here_.

Beside her, Brennan couldn't help the moan that escaped through his teeth. Emma tightened her grip.

_Emma…_

Emma desperately redoubled her efforts.


	8. Desires and Deceptions 8: epilog

They tumbled into the computer room of Sanctuary, Adam and Shalimar ending up in a tangle of arms and legs. Jesse arrived a bare second later, hands covering his eyes, shaking with the effects of the acid still trying to etch its way into his flesh.

Denise squealed in shock and jerked her hand away from the toggle switch.

Adam chose not to discuss several remarkable issues: a) that the million to one chance of the bracelets actually working had come through, b) that the person operating his beloved Sanctuary computers was the no longer missing sixteen year old Denise Vetchner and that c) the position that he and Shalimar had accidentally fallen into would have been astoundingly compromising were it not for the current circumstances. Adam elected not to address any of those concerns at the moment. Instead—

"Shut the computers down now!"

Denise gaped.

Kenny popped out into real life, intent on getting his captives back to where he thought they belonged. He reached toward his primary objective: Adam.

Adam had a better idea. The on/off power switch was located on the computer across the room and out of reach, but the power outlet was not. He yanked on the cord. The connection was broken.

The computer gave an exasperated hiss, and sank into blackness.

Kenny whirled around. His words, once the scatological terminology was deciphered, indicated that he was more than mildly dismayed at this turn of events. Inside the computer, he was master. Here, in the real world with the computer turned off, he was outnumbered. And those glorious muscles that he basked in were composed of wimped out steroids.

_Not good_.

One of the things she liked most about Adam Kane, Shalimar decided, was his ability to take charge of a situation without wasting time with the non-essentials. A lesser man would have told Denise how pleased he was that she had been found and was now safe in Sanctuary, and that she had successfully participated, albeit in a small way, in the current mission. Another non-essential would have been to discuss the uniqueness of the fact that the jerry-rigged bracelets had worked despite Shalimar's previous location inside Adam's cage and inside Adam's arms rather than hauling her mentor out into the computer version of open as originally planned. Instead:

"Denise, get to the clinic. Have Emma get the chemical shower ready. Do it now. Jesse?" he asked, taking the younger man by the arms.

"I can't see, Adam." Jesse fought to keep the panic out of his voice. Even the pain of the acid eating through his skin as he spoke was secondary. He hissed when Adam helped him stagger to his feet.

"I know. It's the acid. We'll have it off you in a moment. We need to get you to the clinic to wash it off." Adam hoisted Jesse's arm over his shoulder, ignoring the gasp of pain, steadying the molecular to keep him from falling. There was no dawdling.

Shalimar eyed the computer mutant balefully. Kenny stood there, not quite certain what to do now. The computer, dark and lifeless, was not an option. That door was shut. But Kenny still had his steroid muscles, and both Adam and Jesse were occupied with other things. He flexed his muscles. They were bigger than Shalimar's, for which Shalimar was eternally grateful.

Though _bigger_ didn't necessarily mean _better_.

But Kenny knew that Shalimar was a feral. She bared her teeth, tossing off her words over her shoulder to Adam. "What do you want me to do with him?"

Adam considered, not slowing his steps one iota, helping Jesse to stumble along. "At this point, I don't much care. Just leave enough for me to run some tests on. I want data on his genetic structure."

Shalimar glared.

Kenny started to back pedal. He swallowed hard. "Uh, Shalimar, we can talk about this, right? I mean, I can create a really fine place inside the computer for you to—"

"Save it, slime. You showed us what happens when you go _into_ a computer. I'm about to show _you_ what happens when I shove a computer into your—"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

All right, so someone lit a bonfire under his ribs, and it was merrily torching his insides. Fortunately, someone had also given him morphine, and Brennan didn't care how he felt. Give him a marshmallow and a stick, and Brennan was perfectly willing to toast it as long as he didn't have to open his eyes. That, it was clear, would be painful in the extreme, despite the narcotics.

No such luck. Someone peeled back an eyelid and, to add insult to injury, flashed a penlight right at him. He yelled and pushed the offender away.

At least, he thought he did. What actually came out, he was afraid, was a meager whimper of distress and an arm that flopped back down to his side of its own volition. Clearly Jesse had phased Brennan's arm to diamond-solid matter of an exceptionally heavy density. There was no other explanation for whyBrennan was unable to lift his own arm.

"It's all right, Brennan. Go back to sleep. You'll feel better soon."

That was Adam's voice. What was he doing here? Hadn't Kenny kidnapped him? In fact, hadn't Kenny, one time friend and co-thief, stabbed Brennan with intent to kill? Apparently several things had happened in the recent past. Brennan decided that he'd better open his eyes and find out just what, in case he needed to move fast.

Maybe 'fast' wasn't the right term. He wasn't sure, but it seemed to take about five minutes for Brennan to finish opening both eyes, and another three to complete the task of focusing. And, okay, the gasp of pain was his but he was certain that the wheeze that he heard afterward wasn't. Brennan looked around for the source of the wheeze.

He was not alone in his misery. The second clinic bed was likewise occupied. Jesse lay there, skin looking like he'd been out in the sun too long without sun block, and a white bandage wrapped around his eyes. His hands too bore thick white dressings, and a young girl with long dark hair was holding a straw to his lips so that he could drink. Brennan thought that he ought to recognize the kid. He really thought that he'd seen her somewhere recently. Dammit, why wouldn't his brain work straight? _Score one for the morphine_.

Brennan blinked. The white bandages on Jesse wouldn't go away. He blinked again. "Bro?"

Shalimar correctly interpreted his question. "Got hit with acid. Electrons, really, since we were inside the computer with Kenny, but Kenny made them feel like an acid rain, and since we were in the computer with Kenny, it was Kenny's world. The more electrons, the more acid. Has something to do with pH, whatever that is." She grinned. "Always hated high school chemistry. And I think Jesse isn't too fond of it right now, either."

There was an agreeing groan from the second bed. Denise cut it off by sticking the straw into Jesse's mouth, giving him another sip.

"He's lucky to still be able to see," Adam added. "Another moment more, and the acid would've eaten through his hands into his eyes and the optic nerve. Electrons or acid, they both had the same effect. He would have been blinded permanently. Or killed."

"I don't feel lucky," Jesse grumbled. "I feel helpless." He gestured with bandaged hands. "I can't see, I can't pick anything up, I can't move around without bumping into things." He wiggled his feet, and winced. "I'm not sure I even want to try walking."

"I'll help you, Jesse," Denise offered, touching the straw again to the molecular's lips.

Emma and Shalimar exchanged significant glances. Adam, unluckily for him, didn't intercept those glances.

"For a bit, Denise. Later this afternoon, one of the girls will be taking you back to your foster parents. I promise, we'll take care of Jesse on this end." Adam beamed at this solution to the next problem on his list: resolving where Denise would spend the next several of her formative years. The beaker in his hand slipped to the floor. It smashed to crystal shreds. "Ow." Adam banged his head reaching down to pick up the pieces. "Ow." The pieces managed to slice a nasty cut in his hand. "Ow! Emma!"

"Told you I hadn't gotten a functional block yet, Adam." Emma was unperturbed. She held out her hand to Denise. "Come on, Denise. You and I have some work to do before you go to your new home."

Denise sighed, putting Jesse's drink back onto the table. "Do I have to?"

"For the sake of the world," Emma smiled, "yes." She led the girl away.

Brennan lifted his eyebrows. Things were moving much too quickly. "Adam?"

"I was finally able to identify Denise's mutant powers." Adam correctly interpreted Brennan's question. "She's lucky."

"Lucky—!" Jesse started to explode, sitting up. "Ow!" he added when he bumped a bandaged hand against the table. "Damn."

"Lie still," Shalimar advised. She helped him to lie back down, clucking sympathetically until he was settled and breathing again. "You're lucky, too. Lucky to be alive. And not in scattered electrons."

"Hah," Jesse grumbled.

Brennan was still confused. "You said Denise is lucky? Yeah, she's lucky to be alive and not in Genomex's hands. What do you mean, lucky? What does that have to do with her mutant powers?"

"Maybe a better way to put it is that Denise's power is to influence probabilities," Adam clarified. "If Denise wants a long shot to happen, it will. At this stage of her life it's completely unconscious, not under her control. But, to put it simply, what Denise wants will happen. As long as there's one chance, even if it's a million to one, that chance will come through. If Denise wants it hard enough."

"For example," Shalimar put in, "Denise wanted to come back to Sanctuary with Jesse. That didn't happen, so things started 'happening' to _make_ it happen: her foster parents 'forgot' that she arrived and didn't keep track of her when she ran away. Things started 'happening' around here so that Jesse was forced out of Sanctuary to a place where he could meet Denise. Tell me that meeting Denise in the one bar in the whole city that she went to wasn't an amazing coincidence. As well as all the other things here in Sanctuary."

"Even the fight with Kenny was a slap at the odds of the highest order," Adam added. "I took another look at the CAMS module Kenny gave us. The odds against getting a normal mutant into a computer through that chip are astronomical. It shouldn't have worked. Sorry, Jesse; you're good, but you're not _that_ good. And when you factor in the bracelets that Jesse devised—literally, the odds were a million to one."

"And yet, it did work," Jesse said smugly, the grin poking out from underneath the bandages.

"No thanks to you, Jesse. Sorry," Adam said. "That was all Denise. The chances of those bracelets working was minimal until Denise's powers stepped in to make happen what she wanted." He gestured off into the distance to where the two psionics had gone. "Emma right now is helping Denise to build barriers in her mind so that this power won't affect anyone else until Denise is old enough to learn to control it." He shuddered. "Can you imagine a teen-ager with the power to get anything she wants?"

"Hm," Brennan mused. "Winning a long shot at the horse races. Winning the lottery. Growing up to be a super-model."

"Meeting the man of her dreams," Shalimar added. "Why couldn't I be cursed with this gift?" She glanced down at her 'little brother'. "Maybe a little hard on 'the man of her dreams', though."

"Thanks, Shal." Jesse tried to shy away. "And don't punch me out again. Little tender there."

Brennan had another concern. "What about Kenny? Where is he? Little piece of slime," he added. The others had no trouble imagining what the elemental would like to do to his former friend.

Shalimar giggled. "Let's just say that there really is a God, and that Kenny is in purgatory."

Brennan wasn't up to deciphering riddles. "Shalimar?"

Adam took pity on the man. "Kenny got what he deserved. The world is now safe from KD Enterprises, Ltd."

"Adam—!" _Okay, sitting up was a mistake_. As soon as his brain stopped whirling inside his head, Brennan realized that Shalimar had his shoulders and was easing him back onto the bed. He let her; at this point, he didn't have much choice. The bonfire in his gut flared up in sympathy—maybe he'd start breathing again sometime next week. Right now, it hurt! Brennan tried to concentrate on Adam's words.

"Remember that ancient computer of Jesse's? The one built in the early eighties, before the Internet was anything more than a gleam in the military's eye? Not even a color monitor?"

"Yeah. It's a piece of junk. I thought we got rid of it."

"It's a useful piece of junk," Shalimar declared. "It thinks at the speed of molasses."

Brennan began to get the picture. "Kenny?"

Shalimar giggled again. "Inside. With no way out."

Brennan relaxed against the clinic bed, more at piece with himself than he had been for the last several hours. He closed his eyes.

_Another piece of his past, laid to rest_.


End file.
